


Origami Wolf

by saltwatergirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Body Worship, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories/Flashbacks, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 36
Words: 66,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltwatergirl/pseuds/saltwatergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People put up walls for a reason. When you tear those walls down, you must be prepared for what's waiting for you, on the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

at night  
you gather  
on my heart  
like dew

Shabbir Banoobhai ©

 

**PART ONE**

Acrid clouds of wolfsbane smoke rose, smothering the light and turning the Hale house into a gas chamber. Every laboured breath that Derek Hale took made every cell in his body hurt. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air and clutching at his throat.

“You’re such a pathetic creature,” Kate Argent said as she stepped over his body. “Yes, baby, keep breathing it in. Just take in all that lovely poison. It’s just a matter of time before you pass out from the pain and the lack of oxygen.” She snickered. “And when you do pass out I will bring you back, just to choke you−” She leaned forward to grab him by the hair, whispering. “I’ll do it over and over again.” Her lips brushed slowly over his ear. “I will do it until you _beg me_ to kill you.” She cackled as she let go of his hair.

Derek’s head made a sickening thud as it hit the stone floor; he clutched his teeth and grunted in pain. Kate took a step back and kicked him hard in his side. He screamed in pain as her foot made contact with his body. The force shattered a bone in his ribcage; Derek heard it crack as it split into two, like dry wood. He tried to roll onto his side to relieve the pressure, clawing weakly on the cold, dusty floor.

Above him, Kate was still talking. “We asked you not to turn more people but−” She emphasised each word with a kick to Derek’s side. “You.” A quick hard kick knocked the air from his lungs. “Didn’t.” Then another. “Listen.” Then another.

He felt his lungs start to cave in and his mouth fill with blood. Dark, warm blood that tasted like copper, that tasted like pain, that tasted like defeat. He was trapped, there was nowhere for him to run. His family was gone. Laura was dead. 

‘ _I survived, you survived then we survived. Surely that must count for something?’_ Laura had once said. _But I didn’t go on living, Laura._ He wanted to tell her _. I just put one foot in front of the other and forced myself to survive._

 “You turned Isaac, Erica, _and_ Boyd.” Kate held up her hand, counting them off with her fingers. “You created _three_ new teenage werewolves. Once I’m done with you I’m going to hunt them all down and kill them. And it’ll be your fault. Their blood will be on your hands!”

Derek closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands as he tried desperately to shut her voice out.

“You did this!” Kate shouted at him. “Derek! Do you hear me? Derek!” Her voice seemed to echo and fade out.

“Derek, Derek, open your eyes!”

Derek opened his eyes to find the night sky and Stiles Stilinski looming above him. The full moon haloed Stiles’ head. “What happened?” Derek asked.

“You tell me,” Stile said as he stood up. “I just stumbled across you whimpering and screaming and _naked_ …” he gestured, turning his face away, “out here in the woods.”

When Derek felt the biting cold November air brush against his bare skin, he became suddenly and painfully aware that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. “What are you doing out here?” he asked sharply.

“What am I doing here? “I just woke you from what sounded like a pretty horrible werewolf nightmare and that’s all the thanks I get?”

Derek sighed, brushing away the cold, wet leaves and mud from his thighs. “Stiles, _you_ area werewolf’s nightmare and I can’t kill you to make you shut up because Scott would hate me if I did.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Stiles turned his back to him. “Ha ha, buddy. Well, excuse me for being a Good Samaritan!  When I saw you, logic told me to keep walking but I didn’t listen, and you know what? Screw you, I’m leaving!”

 “Stiles!”

Stiles stopped in his tracks. “What?!”

Derek’s voice dropped. “Please don’t tell Scott and Isaac about this… about what you saw… what you heard.”

Stiles turned. “You want me _not_ to tell them that I found you in the middle of the woods, acting whacked out of your mind, howling and screaming blue murder, scaring all the rabbits and birds within a three mile radius, and acting like you were in the middle of the last act in some freaking Stanley Kubrick horror film?!”

Derek sighed. Did Stiles need to be so dramatic?  “Yes.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Stiles said, raising his eyes to meet Derek’s. “You are obviously going through something and you need help. Serious help. I went through some really bad shit when my mom died. So, I think I can understand.”

Stiles took a step towards him. Derek wiped all expression from his face. “Go home, Stiles.” Before Stiles could reply, Derek turned his back and started to walk away.

 _Go home, far away from me_ , he thought solemnly. Once he was out of Stiles' sight, Derek stopped and stared up at the moon. He tried to remember how he ended up in the woods. He had not sleepwalked since he was a child. _Somehow tonight I wandered into the woods and had what-- a nightmare?_   The night they left Beacon Hills, Laura had made him promise to always take care of pack. When he killed Peter the first time, he broke that promise. Peter came back from the dead to help him with Gerard Argent and the Kanima, and once that was over Derek asked him to leave town and never come back. Even though Peter had turned out to be a psycho, he was still family. Once, long ago, before the fire, his uncle had been a fun-loving guy with an easy smile. _Damn the Argents_ , he thought. They had destroyed everything.

When Derek left Beacon Hills six years ago, he left his past and the nightmares behind. For six years; six long, quiet years; he didn’t have nightmares. Then Laura disappeared and he was forced to go back to Beacon Hills to look for her. Somehow returning to this godforsaken little town and dealing with the Argents, the Kanima and the unfortunate resurrection of his psychopathic uncle had triggered something inside him _. Peter,_ he thought, _I should have killed that son of a bitch_ _the second time around._ But a part of him knew that wasn’t true. _There’s nothing here for you in Beacon Hills anymore and I sure as hell don’t need you around,_ he had told his uncle. Peter had been smart enough to know that Derek was giving him an easy way out.

Peter had smiled his little slimy smile. “I’m looking forward to being a lone wolf,” he had purred when they parted ways.

  _I can’t look at your face without feeling sick. I killed you once − I’ll do it again and this time you will stay dead._ That is what Derek wanted to say to his uncle but he couldn’t. _I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Laura,_ he had told his uncle instead.

  _“Derek, we found her she was cut in half by your kind. Whoever killed her is now an Alpha and they will be coming for you. Derek? Derek, do you understand what I’m saying to you?”_

_Derek face was burning and a wild choking sound wrenched out of him. In one violent movement he turned the steel table over watching it crash to the floor. He lunged towards Dr Denton and felt a sharp sting to his neck. As he reached for his neck, the room went blurry as his fingers closed around the tail of the animal tranquilizer dart. Laura. Laura.  Laura. He whispered as his head hit the floor. And the world went black all around him_

A part of him had died with Laura that day.

In the distance Derek could hear Stiles starting the Jeep. The engine hummed to life. Almost involuntary Derek sniffed the air. An owl hooted somewhere far away and the cold November wind rustled through the trees from a different direction, taking Stiles’ scent along with it.

Derek felt the urge to shift overcome him, the intensity hit him like a hard sucker punch to the gut. He succumbed to the urge; he collapsed onto all fours on the cold damp forest floor, powerless. Slowly, carefully his bones twisted and folded within his body.

#### ***

How does a man turn into a wolf? Shifting from a man into a beast was biological origami. It was an intricate dance of bones flexing, shifting, turning and folding into each other, muscle shortening, hair lengthening and teeth extending. A dance of bone and muscle. This dance took place until the man was gone and all that remained was a wolf, the Grey, an Alpha.

The change into his second skin took longer than his beta werewolf form. Tonight the moon demanded that he shift into a full alpha wolf. He stared up at the moon with blood red wolf eyes, eyes that glowered in silent defiance of the moon’s power.

He was a wolf and all the sounds of the night were amplified to his senses.

 _Run it off_ , the night whispered to him. _Run it off_. He began to run mindlessly, deep into the dark woods. He ran away from the sound of cars and humans. He ran until all he could hear around him were the sounds of the forest at night. He could hear the crickets in the grass, the wind rustling through the leaves. He could even hear a mouse nibbling deep inside a hollow tree and a frog landing on a lily pad. In the semidarkness, he could see the mis-matched leaves that had fallen from all the different trees. The leaves from redwood trees, bracken and the yellow trees all coming together to form a leafy quilt, a yellow, brown, woody grey blanket for the cold damp earth.

He ran until he came to the very edge of the forest, where the wide, open mouth of the lake began. He went to the lake’s bank and stared down at the shimmering surface. The moon was bright enough that he could see his face reflected on its surface.

When he looked into the lake, he saw a Grey staring back at him.

He howled into the night sky.


	2. Chapter 2

Long before Stiles knocked on the door of the Hale house, long before he even drove up the road, Derek was aware of his presence nearby.

After last week’s incident in the woods Derek knew that at some point, Stiles would show up with questions. But when a day passed, and then another, then eventually a week, Derek began to think he had been wrong.

“Derek!” Stiles shouted on the other side of the door. “Are you in there?”

Derek silently contemplated ignoring Stiles, but a part of him already knew it would be pointless. Stiles had, after all, kept his word; he had not told Scott anything about their run in in the woods and that, for the most part, was a relief. The last thing Derek needed were his Betas knowing that their Alpha was−

The door creaked open and Stiles cautiously walked inside. “Derek…?” he called.

Derek stepped out of the shadows. “Stiles," he replied, deliberately startling him. When Stiles gasped and jumped, Derek could barely hold back the little smile that threatened to tug up the corners of his lips.

“Dude, you almost gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing lurking in the shadows?” Stiles demanded.

“Stiles, what are you doing here?”

“I was… I came to…” Stiles’ eyes darted around the room as if he was trying to think of something to say. His eyes took in the peeling wallpaper, the half broken chair, the piles of wood, dilapidation and decay everywhere. “So, how is the reconstruction going? Scott told me that you were remodelling…” he gestured.

 _You are such a bad liar_ , Derek thought as he frowned. “You came here to check up on me.”

“Whoa! There’s no need to get all paranoid on me, I was just driving by and I decided to hop in and say ‘hi’ to a neighbour. That’s all.”

“Stiles, we are not neighbours. We live on opposite sides of Beacon Hills.”

“Okay. You got me there.” Stiles shrugged off his backpack. “Okay, just hear me out, I was doing some research online about nightmares, werewolves, and sleepwalking. Derek, I was there with you that night. I saw you. What I saw was kinda disturbing. Okay, really, really disturbing. 'Wolfman on crack' disturbing−”

“I’m fine.” Derek shrugged. “I’m in complete control of my emotions and I don’t need to explain anything that goes on my property.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s arm. “No, you are not! Listento me. Whatever crap you are going through, it’s going to affect everybody around you because what you are going through is dangerous. What if you shift, lose control, and kill someone in the process?”

“The Argents would kill me and there would be no more Derek.” He shook Stiles’ arm off. “Happy Scott, happy Stiles.” Derek spoke with vicious emphasis; his eyes never left Stiles’ face.

He watched as Stiles winced at his cold words. Stiles’ face crumpled and for the briefest moment, Derek felt guilty and wanted to take it back. He wanted to tell Stiles that he was just as terrified as Stiles was. His erratic behaviour was triggered by a deep dark spiral of nightmares. Nightmares that had started the night he returned to Beacon Hills. Derek barely slept at night. Each day that passed, each night that went by brought him closer and closer to the next full moon. He wanted to tell Stiles. But he couldn’t.

Instead he gave Stiles a cold glare.

“I'm one of Beacon Hill’s human population. I could end up literally, torn to shreds in the freaking woods. Thanks but no thanks.”

Derek frowned.

“Think about it, Derek. If you are having a nightmare and youshift and you bite someone and turn them. That person turns on the full moon and murders other people. Do you want that? If this has to do with Scott and Isaac, they don't have to know about you. They'll never hear it from me and that’s a promise.”

Derek thought it over for a long time, His shoulders squared and folded with tension. Silently contemplating, Stiles had a point. “Okay,” he finally replied. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

An audible sigh of relief went through Stiles like a wisp of wind going through a paper kite. “Firstly, you need to get out of this… house. Whatever is in this house it’s probably triggering your nightmares. So I suggest you come to my house and stay there for a while. And we will take it from there.”

“Wow, Stiles, that’s a great idea,” Derek said.

Stiles blinked at his sarcastic tone. “What? I thought you wanted my help?”

“But aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“Who.”

“Who?”

“Yes.” Derek rolled his eyes.

“How?” Stiles asked “Is this a game? Because I can keep going.”

“ _What_.” Derek rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. “ _What_ about your dad? The one with the gun?”

“Oh.” Stiles smiled. “That’s why I waited a week to come here because my dad will be gone for the next two weeks. I have thought this through and I have it most of it figured out. Can you get me wolfsbane?”

“Wolfsbane? What do you need wolfsbane for?” Derek frowned. “Stiles, are you planning to poison me or something?”

“No, smartass, I’m planning to use it to make a dreamcatcher. I read about it online. I figured I would use wolfsbane since you are a werewolf.”

“Stiles, I not letting you anywhere near me with wolfsbane.”

“That was just one of the options. So we start tomorrow, if that’s fine with you. Or maybe you need to consult your werewolf calendar to make sure your schedule is clear…” He smiled at Derek.

Derek shrugged.

“Okay… tomorrow works for you. Good, I’ll see you at, say, 10 pm at my house?” Stiles picked up his backpack and headed for the door. “Bye, Derek.”

“Stiles, one more thing.”

He stopped and turned towards Derek.

“This act that you have going on, I’m pretty sure a lot of people think it’s cute but it’s not going to work with me. Do you understand?”

Stiles blinked. “What act?”


	3. Chapter 3

Haunted, lonely and broken, the Hale house was a perfect reflection of Derek. _No matter how many times I am inside it, I’ll never get used to it_ , Stiles thought. Everywhere he looked, all he could see was the damage the fire left behind.

The beams that held up the whole house were charred black and deeply scarred with burns. There were holes in the walls which used to be windows. Mould and decay was everywhere. The massive staircase was a wooden skeleton of jagged edges. Piles of debris were scattered throughout the house. Most of the floor was uneven and difficult to walk on. All the walls were streaked with water damage from iron rods that use to be window frames that had long ago rusted. The rust bled onto the walls, weaving out spidery red veins that connected together into a haphazard maze.

And there was dust, everywhere.

The whole Hale house was covered in dust, sadness and lost and Stiles wondered how the hell Derek managed to live there.

##### ***

Of all the bad ideas Stiles has ever had in his life, _this_ was probably going to take the prize. He had offered to help Derek. _Which was a bad idea from the very beginning but it had been the only idea I had at the time_. With his dad out of town on a case, he had asked – no, pleaded with Derek Hale to spend the freaking night at his house. Not only had he lied to his best friend Scott about what he saw that night in the woods. But he had omitted a lot of important details. Details such as he found Derek howling in a panicked state, naked and covered in what looked like blood. Details, so many details. Instead of doing the sensible thing and telling his best friend Scott that he was part of a werewolf pack that was being led by an Alpha who was a walking time bomb. But Stiles had promised Derek that he wouldn’t tell any of his Betas. After Boyd and Erica ditched him and Jackson disappeared, Derek only had Scott and Isaac as part of his pack.

Stiles ran a hand roughly through his hair. _What the hell was I thinking?_ He checked his watch. It was 11pm. Derek was late. _Maybe he isn’t coming?_ Stiles went to his window. The second quarter moon shone down on him from a star-studded navy sky. Two weeks until the next full moon. Two weeks in which he had to find a way to help Derek with his nightmares. It was barely enough time. Damn, there were so many things that could go wrong with his plan.

He was so deep in thought that he only heard the doorbell on its third ring. For a split second, Stiles considered ignoring it. He knew it wasn’t Scott. Scott didn’t knock when he came to the Stilinski household, he just walked right in. _Thring. Thring_ , the ringing continued.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Stiles ran down the stairs and flung the door open to find Derek standing there.

“Derek.”

“Stiles, you seem surprised to see me,” Derek said.

“No, it’s just, um.” _Shut up, Stiles. Shut up, Stiles._ But he kept talking. “I thought you would just crawl through the window like you usually do.” He stepped back to let Derek in.

“Ha.” Derek pulled a completely unamused face as he walked in. Once inside, he looked around the hallway. “So your dad is not here?”

“Yes. I told you he wouldn’t be.”

“And you didn’t tell Scott that I was coming over?” He turned towards Stiles.

“Yes… Wait, why are you asking?”

Derek took a step towards Stiles.

“What are you doing?” Stiles stepped back.

A menacing smile started to spread across Derek's face as he took another step towards him.

“Derek, why are you smiling like a serial killer?” For some reason, Stiles’ voice started to sound really squeaky. “What’s going on?” Derek pressed him up against the wall of the hallway. His eyes were glowing a ruby red. And his serial killer smile disappeared and turned into a cold glare.

“Derek?” _Oh great, Derek Hale is going to kill me right here, right now in my own house._ His dad was out of town and he was all alone with an unhinged werewolf who blacks out and has nightmares that involve killing people in his sleep. Stiles' eyes started darting around, searching for a weapon, anything to grab and throw at Derek but his eye settled on a photo of himself and his dad, a photo that was taken ten years ago.

Stiles could remember that day. His mom and dad had taken him to Carmel. They had spent the whole day on the beach. It was probably his favourite memory with his family. Stiles closed his eyes as Derek leaned closer. He could feel Derek's breath on his face. He could still remember how warm the sun had felt on his face on the beach that day. He could hear the seagulls flying overhead.

_“Dad, look at all the birds!”_

_“Stiles, they’re called seagulls.”_

_“Seagulls…” he had carefully tasted the new word. “Seagulls. There’s so many of them!”_

Stiles felt a low vibration go across his body. It took him more than a moment for him to realise that Derek was laughing. Stiles opened his eyes as he pushed Derek away. “Jerk,” he blurted out, “Dude, you scared me.”

Derek was still laughing. “You deserved it, for sneaking around my house.”

“Says the guy who is always creeping around Beacon Hills like some sort of…” Stiles’ voice trailed off when he saw something dark cloud Derek’s eyes. Instinctively he knew whatever he said next had the power to hurt Derek in some unspeakable way. “Never mind,” he said.

Derek dropped his eyes, an uncomfortable silence passed between them.

It was broken when Derek said, “So, how are we doing this?”

Stiles looked down at his watch. It was now 11:20 pm. “Well it’s still early to go,” he cleared his throat, “go to bed. So maybe we can watch TV for a little while or something…” He gestured to the couch.

Derek just shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” He went over to the sofa and took off his black leather jacket and dropped it next to him as he sat down.

Stile stood there dumbly for a second trying to decide whether to sit next to Derek or across from him, or perhaps at the opposite end of the room. He was still trying to decide when Derek looked up and patted the spot right next to him.

Stiles sat down and grabbed the remote.

Without a word, Derek took the remote from him and started mindlessly flipping through channels. “Is there anything in particular you want to watch?” The screen rolled from HBO to Showtime to the Hallmark Channel.

“Just pick a channel randomly.” Stiles fought the urge to grab the remote from him. “We’ll watch whatever pops up.”

“How do I do that?” Derek's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at the remote.

“Well you press, START, Program and then select RAN. Wait, let me do it.” Stiles reached for the remote.

Derek snorted, and held it high, out of Stiles' reach. “Relax, I got this.”

Stiles started laughing at the whole absurdity of the situation. Derek Hale was telling him to relax. _Now that’s a joke._

“What's so funny?” Derek asked as he brought his arms down.

“It’s you. You are telling _me_ to relax.” Stiles managed to say through his laughter. He realised that Derek could see the irony of the whole situation when the corners of his mouth tugged up into a slow smile. He couldn’t help but notice how different Derek looked. Derek’s natural smile was perfect and it was directed at him. Something warm and strange curled up in the very centre of his gut. Stiles rubbed his eyes.

“So, are you ready to channel surf?” Derek turned towards the TV screen.

And the moment disappeared just as quickly as it arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

“Poor baby,” Kate whispered in Derek’s ear. “He wants you. But he has no idea of what you're capable of…”

Derek could taste the familiar taste of blood. He couldn’t see her but her voice sent a cold shudder down his spine.

“ _You are going to break his heart._ ” Kate’s voice was thunderous. “You are going to tear him into pieces and you are going to enjoy it. You are going to enjoy hurting him.” Her voice dropped and it sounded almost sympathetic when she added, “because that’s what you do. You can’t help it.”

“No,” Derek groaned. _I can’t. I won’t._

Kate's cackle echoed all around him. Derek covered his ears as he tried to block out the horrific sound.  The sound mutated from shrill to thunderous.

Then suddenly, Derek felt his eardrums burst and something started to drip from his ears. He removed his hands and looked at his palms. Black blood spotted his skin's surface. He watched in horror as his claws extended. His body began to shift against his will. Derek gritted his teeth. Sharp canines sank deep into his lip as he bit down.

He could hear something.

Childlike whimpering came at him from the dark.

  _It’s you_ , Kate told him. Her voice was now in his head. _Poor baby. You are in so much pain_. Derek’s body jerked when he felt sharp slicing pain that threatened to carve him into two.

Far away, in the distance, he could hear a voice , begging him to come back. The pain began to subside.

“Derek, wake up!”

“Stiles?” Derek opened his eyes.

The lights were off and the TV blurred eerily in the background. He was drenched in sweat. The T-shirt he wore felt cold and clammy as it clung to his skin.

“You were having another nightmare. I came downstairs as soon as I heard you. You were starting to shift when I woke you up.”

Derek rubbed his eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Derek snapped. He sat up and looked for his jacket. He spotted it on a table, reached for it, and shrugged it on in one movement.

“The nightmares, maybe talking about them could help−”

“No.”

“What’re you so afraid of? Derek, talk to me.”

“No.” Derek stood up. He needed to leave. Right the fuck now. He didn’t need Stiles looking at him like he was some kind of −

_‘Freak or HaleMo ’ is what Derek usually heard when he walked down the hallways of Beacon Hill’s High and today was no different._

_Derek slammed his locker and his books fell onto the floor. He heard laughter down the hall. He looked up and saw the lacrosse team watching him. Tier one for the swim team had been announced. He was on top of the list. And some of the jocks had a problem with that. Unlike them, Derek took swimming all year. Those jocks were on the swim team only during Fall and spent the rest of the year on the lacrosse team._

_“We need him in the team, guys. Be nice,” one of the guys said to his friend._

_Derek cursed under his breath and dropped down to one knee to pick up his books._

_“While he is down on his knees…”_

_Derek heard a sound of zipper being pulled down._

_More laughter followed._

_Derek ducked his head. His fingers tightened around the spine of his Calculus book, and his claws dug through the pages, shredding them into confetti. His jaw clenched. Anger and contempt swelled inside him._

He couldn’t be anywhere near people. When he reached for the door, his eyes flared blood red when the overpowering stench of wolfsbane hit him like a ton of bricks. “Stiles!” he shouted. “Why is there wolfsbane by the door?”

Stiles reached for the door and pulled out the dreamcatcher with wolfsbane twining its frame.

Derek stepped back.

“I made this to keep you from wolfing out in your sleep during a nightmare.” Stiles held it out to Derek.

“Keep it away from me!”

“I’m trying to help you and you keep acting like a jerk! What’s your problem? You keep treating me like I’m some stupid kid that you can’t stand, but I’m the only person here who wants to help you. Scott and Isaac aren't here. Boyd and Erica have abandoned you. Who else in this freaking world is going to want to help you? Who?” 

“Stiles…” Derek sighed. _Stiles, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_ , he thought as he stood there feeling the silence hanging in the air.

“Are you leaving?” Stiles finally asked.

“Yes,” Derek replied, trying his best not to snap.

“Will you come back?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Stiles nodded. “Thanks for at least being honest with me.” He looked so dejected standing there in the dimly lit porch.

 _He’s only trying to help me_ , Derek thought. He felt like the world’s biggest jerk. He stepped forward and he drew Stiles into his arms.

It should have felt weird, it should have felt awkward, but it didn’t. “Thank you,” Derek whispered, resting his face against Stiles’ shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Stiles accepted the hug. He was clearly surprised by Derek’s uncharacteristic gesture of friendship.

Stiles was almost as tall as he was and he felt so solid and alive in Derek’s arms. Stiles smelt so warm, so inviting−

“Don’t do anything stupid when you're out there, okay?”

 _Too late_ , Derek thought as he touched Stiles’ hair lightly.

 

#### ***

A large grey wolf wandered into the Stilinski's yard. His ruby eyes glowed like neon lights in the semi darkness. Panting, he paced back and forth. He had been running in the woods for hours, not hunting, just running mindlessly in the thick forest. At some point he caught a scent in the woods. This scent led him all the way from the woods to this house.

Across the road, a Doberman behind an iron gate spotted him and started barking. It was a harsh, dry sound. The dog barked and barked, straining against the steel bones of the gate separating it from the wolf. Another dog, an Alsatian, somewhere indoors joined in. The sound that came from it was more of a yap than a bark. Then another dog joined in, then another and another. Pretty soon there was a canine chorus of ‘Intruder, intruder, Lycan intruder!’ ringing like an alarm bell all around him.

His eyes glowed murderously red as he growled at the obnoxious fleabag that had originally started the chorus. He knew he couldn’t stay. Pretty soon the humans would all wake up. And then he would be in real trouble. He turned tail and ran back towards the woods.

By the time he reached the river, he had shifted into human form.

When Derek leaned down on the cold, wet stony riverbank, the water was a rippling mirror. He stabbed his fist into the frigid water and watched his human face break into pieces.

 

#### ***

The very next night Derek showed up at Stiles’ house.

“I’ll crash on the couch,” he said, as he took off his black leather jacket.

Underneath, he wore a blue button down flannel shirt. Stiles blinked in surprise, he has never seen Derek wearing anything that didn’t look like it belonged to SAMCRO. The outfit made Derek look different, younger somehow.

“Why are you smiling?” Derek fixed his cool eyes on Stiles.

“Oh, nothing,” Stiles replied, ducking his head behind the door.

 

#### ***

Even though the wolfsbane dreamcatcher made his nostrils flare and left him feeling light-headed, he thanked Stiles for his help as Stiles hung it up over the door.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Stiles tossed him a pillow.

Derek caught it in one swift movement, holding it up awkwardly as if he didn’t know what it was.

“I’ll be upstairs.” Stiles gestured behind him. “Good night?” It wasn’t a question but somehow it came out like one.

“Goodnight.”

 

 

#### ***

Once upstairs, Stiles sat in his room trying to finish his chemistry homework. He knew if he didn’t finish it before tomorrow, his A-hole of a teacher, Mr. Harris would give him endless grief about it. But Stiles could barely concentrate. His mind kept wandering to Derek. He stared at his chemistry notebook; the equation on the page didn’t seem to make any sense to him. He dropped his head on his arm. _I’ll just rest my eyes for a little while_ , he thought.

He must have drifted off because he woke to the sound of Derek whimpering in his sleep. A sound that was now familiar to him. Stiles raced down the stairs, to find Derek rolling around on the floor moaning in pain.

“Derek! Wake up. Derek!” Stiles knelt down next to him.

Derek opened his eyes. They were bright red. “Stiles?” he murmured. He sat up and pulled Stiles into a tight hug.

Stiles returned the hug in silence. If this was what Derek needed to bring him back down from a nightmare, he was willing to play along. He sighed as he rested his chin against Derek’s shoulder.

They slowly pulled apart.

Derek was staring at him. The feral intensity in his eyes would have made a normal person run screaming into the woods. But not him, not Stiles Stilinski. He was pretty far from normal. Stiles matched that stare for all it was worth. Hell, a gun could have gone off in that room and he wouldn’t have blinked.

Stiles would never remember who initiated that first kiss. Years later, when he was in college, rolled up in his cold bunk feeling homesick, his mind would return to that moment. He would remember the rough brush of Derek’s five o’clock shadow against his cheek, Derek's hands encircling his neck, pulling him closer. He could remember his heart drumming, drumming so hard against his chest, a caged animal raging to be set free. Every nerve in his body woke up, like they had been asleep all his life, waiting, waiting for Derek Hale to kiss them into existence.

That first kiss would be permanently ingrained in his memory. But details about who leaned in first, who gave in first, would elude him forever. They knelt there kissing for what seemed like hours. They kissed until they were both breathless and shaking. Exploring each other. Mouths, lips, tongues. Stiles’ knees were cramped and sore by the time they finally pulled apart.

Most of all, Stiles would remember the want, the deep maddening want, an inhuman want. He was staring at a stranger. Surely this guy who kissed with such blinding passion was not the same guy who threatened him with bodily harm at every turn? He was not the same guy who'd look at him like he was some annoying kid, someone he couldn’t stand?  He couldn’t be. _Who the hell are you?_


	5. Chapter 5

Derek rose to his feet, took Stiles by the hand, and led him to the couch. In one swift movement, he pulled Stiles off balance by the waistband of his jeans. They landed hard on the couch with Stiles on top. Stiles straddled Derek’s hips, draping his body over him. As Derek snaked his arms up Stiles’ back, pulling him down by the shoulders until their foreheads pressed together.

They stared at each other, a shared wide-eyed expression of shock and disbelief.

They had nothing to say.

They burned holes into each other eyes and closed the space between their lips and kissed.

At the time it seemed like a good idea. 

***

Stiles traced Derek’s lips with his tongue, marvelling at how familiar everything about him was. Derek tasted like morning dew; like the sea at night, he smelt like the earth after rain, the woods before a storm. Surreal, everything, _everything_ about him was familiar, yet surreal and new.

This time their kisses were slow, languid and controlled.

 _I could do this for hours if it was possible_ , Stiles thought curling his fingers tightly in Derek’s hair. Derek scraped blunt nails over Stiles’ neck in circles, tiny circles that ran over Stiles’ throat, the dip of his collar bone, until they settled on his throat directly over the spot where his carotid artery pulsed beneath the skin.

A normal person would have been freaked out by this. _I’m not afraid of him,_ Stiles realised as he pushed his body down over Derek’s, using his knee to push Derek’s thighs apart. Stiles grazed his teeth over Derek’s neck, half kissing, half biting the skin. Stiles explored the bony hollow of Derek’s neck with his tongue as he began to unbutton Derek’s shirt. It took him more than a few seconds to realise that Derek was pushing him off.

“Stiles, someone's coming!” Derek tilted his head to listen. “It’s your dad!”

This broke the spell.

“My dad?” Stiles sat up so abruptly that he fell on to the floor.

“He’s going to come in through that door any second now.” Derek buttoned up his shirt.

“Any second?!”

“Any second.”

Stiles scrambled to his feet. _What's my dad doing back so early?_ He snatched Derek’s jacket off the floor and threw it at Derek. “Go hide in my room!”  

Derek rolled his eyes as he took the jacket, and casually ambled to the stairs, but he disappeared from view just as Stiles’ dad strolled in through the door.

“Stiles!” Stiles’ dad called.

Stiles could hear him humming to himself as he hung up his jacket. Stiles brushed down his shirt as his dad started whistling 'Jailhouse Rock'.

 On the glass cabinet, Stiles caught a glance of his own reflection. _What the hell?_ Stiles barely recognised the boy that stared back at him. His cheeks were flushed. He started smacking his face trying to make the flush disappear. Nope, that only made it worse. His pupils were alien and dilated, like he'd just smoked a joint or something. _Note to self, don’t make out with Derek Hale. It makes you look like you’re on drugs._

 “Dad, you’re home early.”

“Son, we are so close to blowing this case open.” Stiles’ dad unbuckled his holster with one hand, the other was holding an insanely large box of Scooters’ Pizza.

Stiles glanced at his dad and smiled. “Please tell me all about it. I want to know everything.”

 

#### ***

His dad proceeded to tell him about the police case he was working on.

“A witness has come forward to testify,” he said.

Stiles nodded along, trying his best to pay attention as he chewed his pizza. He smiled, nodded,  and said ‘uh huh’ at what he hoped were all the right places every now and then.

Forty-five minutes later, Stiles finally said, “Wow, that’s good news, Dad. I’d love to stay and listen but I’m swamped with homework. I think I should go upstairs and finish it off.” The pun wasn’t lost on him.

His dad waved him off. “Stiles, could you grab me a bottle of Heineken, before you leave?”

“Yeah, sure, dad.”

#### ***

When Stiles finally returned to his room, he didn’t expect to find Derek curled up in a foetal position on his bed, fast asleep. _In werewolf dreamland_ , Stiles thought. Stiles sighed as he picked Derek's black leather jacket off the floor. Underneath it, he found Derek’s boots. He picked them up and turned them over. Size ten. Stiles wore a size twelve. He had bigger feet than Derek. That made him smile.

Stiles pulled open his closet door, looking for his camping bag, since Derek decided to play Goldilocks on his bed, he now had to sleep on the floor. Stiles placed a blanket over Derek’s shoulders. He was surprised when Derek wordlessly rolled over and patted the spot next to him.

Stiles dropped the sleeping bag, kicked off his sneakers and crawled into bed with Derek.

Stiles rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. His glow-in-the-dark stickers of the Milky Way which he had stuck on the ceiling above his bed when he was eleven cast a green glow down on them. “We should talk,” Stiles said cautiously.

Derek was a silent ball of tension beside him.

“Okay, house rules. Don't wolf out while I’m asleep, don’t bite me, and don’t kill me, and…” Stiles fell asleep before he could finish the sentence.

  

#### ***

The faint sound of cheerily chirping birds woke Stiles at dawn. _The early bird catches the worm_ , he thought, rubbing his eyes.

Derek was gone. For some reason, this didn’t surprise him. It was when he rolled on to his side that he found the first one. It was on his pillow, placed in such a way that was the first thing Stiles saw when he opened his eyes. 

It was an origami wolf.  


	6. Chapter 6

Six days melted into one. Stiles didn’t hear from Derek. _Whatever_ , he didn’t care. He made a point of not going anywhere near the Hale house, which was easy enough since that it was on the other side of town anyway.

School was tedious. The only thing he had on his mind was Derek. Even Scott who always acted like romance was about to go out of fashion, stopped being lovey-dovey with Allison long enough to notice the change.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Scott asked him.

“Nothing.” In the back of Stiles’ mind, he laughed at his own pitch perfect impression of Derek's tone.

Scott frowned at him but dropped the subject and they went on about their school day in relative silence. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between two people who have been friends since they were children. Homeroom, lacrosse practise, chemistry. Stiles could have done it all in his sleep, it was that mundane. _Only ten minutes until the bell rings and I’ll be home free_ , he thought.

Then out of the blue, Scott decided to resume a tradition they had stopped when he had started dating Allison. “Can I come over to your house to play video games?” Stiles stifled a groan. The last thing he wanted to do was be trapped in his room with Scott playing some dumb game. Sure, it used to be fun− when they were twelve. They use to play for hours on end, polishing off bags of Doritos and cans of Dr Pepper, like it was nothing. They would talk about whatever preteen angst that was on their minds. But this was so two-thousand-and-eight, it hurt. Stiles forced a smile on his face and told Scott he was dying to play Assassin's Creed. “I can’t wait!” He patted Scott on the back. _Fake it until you make it_ , Stiles thought. _Just fake it until you make it._

#### ***

Scott didn’t show up at his house as planned. Stiles was relieved until his iPhone rang. It was Scott.

“Dude, I thought were you going to bail on our date,” Stiles said, forcing himself to sound cheerful.

“When were you planning to tell me about you and Derek?” Scott demanded.

A chill of fear ran down Stiles’ back. “What are you talking about?” _Don’t panic, don’t panic_.

“I’m talking about you and Derek!” Scott said, spitting out Derek’s name each time he said it as if it was poison in his mouth.

“How did you find out? Did Derek tell you?” Was Scott angry? Or was he hurt? Stiles couldn’t tell.

“No! Derek didn’t tell me, he didn’t need to tell me! Because he is obviously some possessive freak and he’s keeping me out of my best friend’s house!”

Stiles felt confused. “What do you mean he's keeping you out of my house? Did he tell you couldn’t come over or something?”

“No!” Scott shouted. “I _physically_ can’t go inside your house because of him!”

“Scott, you’re my best friend and I love you, but what you’re saying right now doesn’t make any sense at all. Could you please tell me exactly what Derek did?”

“Derek marked your house! No other werewolf, including me, can go inside. Whatever belong to a human that an Alpha marks as part of his territory, other werewolves can’t go near it without his permission!”

Stiles frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s a defence mechanism for Alphas who have human... companions... family, whatever. Alphas have the ability to mark the dwellings of their human companions to keep other werewolves out. Only when the Alpha gives them verbal permission can they enter the premises.”

It took Stiles more than a moment to process what Scott was telling him. “So you are telling me that Derek took a piss on some rose bushes near my house, or something like that and now you can’t come inside my house?”

“Yes!”

Stiles started laughing.

“Stiles, I physically can’t walk through the door without his permission. Whenever I get near the door I get a dizzy sick feeling. The human equivalent of what Derek did is the same as him spray painting ‘Come in and I will kill you,’ all over your house!”

“Scott, I’ll talk to him and ask that he gives you permission to enter,” Stiles said.

“When will you see him?”

Stiles face flushed. “I don’t know.”

For once, he was actually telling the truth.

 

#### ***

Stiles spent ten minutes on the phone with Scott trying to explain away Derek’s behaviour. He tried his best to convince Scott that nothing -- absolutely nothing -- was going on between him and Derek.

Stiles couldn’t tell whether Scott bought any of the crappy lies he told him. A part of him couldn’t help but feel like the world’s biggest jerk. He hated lying; he hated lying to his dad, to Scott, hell, even to his teachers. Stiles could never lie to his dad without getting caught, after all his dad was a cop − a cop who could smell a lie a mile away. As a child, Stiles realised this when his dad always caught him out. His dad would shake his head in dismay. ‘Son, I don’t know what to do with you,’ he would say.

 _If you tell a lie you had to believe it. You have to perform it. A lie is so much easier to tell, if you pretend to be someone else when you tell it,_ Stiles thought. _I’ll keep your secret if you promise to keep mine_. He had promised he would never tell Scott or Isaac about what went on between Derek and him and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Stiles had no one to confide in. That left him in a very lonely place.

He picked up the origami wolf. It was made out of white notebook paper. Derek had left it on his pillow the night that they had slept in the same bed.

 _Why did Derek leave you, and what do you even mean?_ Stiles asked. But the paper didn’t have a reply for him. Then he noticed something inside it. When he held it close to his desktop lamp, the paper became transparent, a little. There was a message inside. Derek must have left a message for him. And the only way to read it was to unfold the paper-which would destroy the origami wolf.

The design was too intricate there was _no way_ he could unfold the paper without destroying it completely.

But a part of him was dying to read the message inside. After thinking about it for a minute, Stiles decided he wouldn’t unfold the paper. Whatever Derek had to say to him, he would just have to say it in person, face to face. Stiles placed the origami wolf on the table. _Good luck with that_ , a voice said in his head.

#### ***

He stayed up most of the night waiting for Derek. After hours of waiting, Stiles finally gave up and fell asleep, only to be woken up by kisses as Derek crawled into bed with him.

“Hey.” Derek’s five o’clock shadow brushed faintly against Stiles’ face. He was smiling, his porcelain white canines, gleaming menacingly in the darkness.

“Where've you been?” Stiles asked, as he propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring the warm flush that travelled from his face all the way down to his cock.

“I told you…” Derek said, pinning Stiles back down on the bed, using his body weight to hold him down in place. Derek grinned down at him. His breath was hot against Stiles’ neck. “Alpha stuff…” he said, letting the sentence hang in the air. He captured Stiles’ lips with his mouth.

Stiles moaned, twisting his arms free from Derek’s grasp. He forcefully pulled Derek’s body down over his.

Derek’s hair was wild; there were leaves and twigs in his hair. Stiles’ body involuntarily bucked up against Derek. There was a sly half grin on Derek’s face. It was the most relaxed Stiles had ever seen him. Stiles couldn’t remember why he was angry with Derek to begin with. _He seems so happy_ , Stiles thought. _I don't want to waste time arguing with him when he's this happy._

Stiles flipped them around and crawled on top of Derek. “How are the nightmares?” he asked in-between kisses.

“No nightmares.”

Derek was lying and Stiles knew better than to push. He pressed their foreheads tightly together, willing Derek to come clean with him. _Tell me, tell me._ _You can trust me_ , Stiles implored him silently. Derek’s face crumpled as if he could hear Stiles’ thoughts and something flickered in the depths of his eyes. Was it fear? Was it anger? Stiles couldn’t tell.

Derek’s voice was chipped and broken. “I don’t get them when I sleep next to you.”

#### ***

Instead of sleeping, they spent the rest of the night kissing. Somehow they managed to keep it up until the early hours of the morning. Only when Derek had long ago crawled out the bedroom window, did it occur to Stiles that he'd forgot to ask him about the markings outside the house.


	7. Chapter 7

They felt into a weird routine; Derek would crawl into Stiles’ bed at all hours of the night. Sometimes they would talk. Well, Stiles would talk and Derek would listen. In the dark, Stiles would glance over to see Derek staring at the ceiling, his jaw clenched in a hard line.

Sometimes they would kiss, slow languid lazy kisses that had no purpose to them.

Sometimes, Derek would show up with red eyes and the kisses would be intense, fevered, and taste like blood. Stiles and Derek would end up a tangle of limbs and clicking teeth, the blanket and duvet winding up a strangled mess on the floor.

Sometimes, Derek would ask him about school, Scott, and his dad. Stiles would tell him about everything that was on his mind and Derek would give him advice.

But most times he was just there, and it was enough.

 

#### ***

Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair as he carefully picked out the leaves. “What’s it like when you turn? I mean, when you turn into an actual wolf?”

 _I’d hoped you would never ask me that_ , Derek thought. He sighed and kept his eyes on the ceiling, “What do you mean?”

“I want you to tell me what it’s like when you turn.”

Derek was quiet for the longest time, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hollow and empty. “It’s loud and intense; every sense is turned on full blast; every reaction is based on instinct. I run on complete overdrive.”

“I want to see you.”

“No.”

Stiles recoiled back. It felt like a slap in the face. “Why?”

“Because I have less control when I’m in that state.” In one swift movement, Derek flipped Stiles onto his back. He raised Stiles’ arms above his head, pinning him using only one hand. “I want to howl...” he said pushing down his hips against Stiles’. “I want to feed...” Derek pushed his hips harder. “I want to bite...” He licked Stiles’ neck and started to rock his crotch against Stiles, “and I want to fuck.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Stiles asked breathlessly. “I think it’s doing the complete opposite.”

Derek sighed and rolled off Stiles. “Is there anything that I can tell you that'll make you understand?”

“You can tell me the truth.”

“Stiles, you say you want the truth but−”

“Please, don’t say ‘you can’t handle the truth’.” Stiles interrupted. “Because I’m going to pull my hair out and−”

“Stiles.” Derek took a deep breath. “The truth is I have never shared that aspect of my life with somebody human before. I came close once but…” He stopped speaking all of a sudden. He didn’t trust himself to continue. He felt rather than saw Stiles leaning closer and forced himself to go on. “It almost cost me my life.”

For once it was Stiles who was silent.

“I trust you. It’s myself I don’t trust,” Derek said.

Stiles reached for Derek’s shoulder. “I trust you. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Derek turned towards Stiles. “Have you ever wondered how I came to be the way I am?”

Stiles dropped his eyes. “A part of me knew it was because someone hurt you… the fire… your uncle.”

“Yes,” Derek said. “But I meant, why I exist, why I turn. My sister Laura, used to tell me this story about how we originated. I’m going to tell the story my sister told me. I’m going to tell it the way she told me, Stiles. I just need you to listen.”

Stiles nodded.

Derek started to speak.

#### ***

"There was once a Kiowa Apache girl called Pamuya. Her father was a Shaman. Only boys were allowed to be Shamans but Pamuya’s dad secretly taught her all the lore. Pamuya’s mom had died during childbirth and he wanted to pass on the knowledge and power to his only child.

The Kiowa Apache were warriors known for their honour and pride throughout the plains. One day after a storm, a man washed up on the riverbank. His skin was pale, his hair was yellow like sunshine, and when he opened his eyes they were grey like the sky. Pamuya instantly fell in love with the Stranger. She took him to her father but when the other tribesmen saw the Stranger, they declared him a demon and demanded that he be put to death.

Pamuya begged her father to spare the Stranger’s life, and when the Sharman saw the distress in his daughter’s eyes he suggested that they help the man and then send him away instead. The Stranger was given shelter by the Shaman.

Soon news about the Stranger spread out throughout the camp, and the village children would come by, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Stranger. As time went by, Pamuya started to teach him bits and pieces of her language and soon they were able to communicate with each other. One day, the Stranger declared his love for Pamuya, and he promised to take her with him to another world beyond the sea. Pamuya happily gave herself to him, although unbeknownst to the Stranger, she was already promised to the chief’s son.

After a while, it was time for the Stranger to leave the Kiowa, but the Stranger promised Pamuya that he would to come back for her. Months went by and soon Pamuya realised that she was pregnant. The village women demanded that Pamuya tell them who the father was, but Pamuya wouldn’t give up the Stranger. But the tribesmen realised that the Stranger was the father and they sentenced her to death for giving up her purity to a demon. They locked her up in a wooden cage like an animal. When the Shaman protested, he was killed.

Pamuya dug out a hole under the fence and escaped into the wilderness. Pregnant and alone, she somehow found the camp were the Stranger was. They were other men at that camp, men who looked like the Stranger. Pamuya called out to him in the dark. _Claim your son. He is coming. Claim your son._ But unbeknown to Pamuya the Stranger had already died, killed by a man he considered to be a brother. The man had slashed the Stranger’s throat and dumped his body in the woods; no one knew the reason why.

Pamuya stood for hours outside the camp calling out to him. But he never came, he never answered. As it started to snow, Pamuya went into labour. She crawled into the woods. She was bleeding out and the smell drew a pack of wolves. As the wolf pack surrounded her. Pamuya used her blood to draw a symbol in the snow. She cursed the Stranger, she cursed her father for teaching her how to curse and most of all she cursed the wolves. Pamuya lived long enough to hear her baby’s first cry. She pulled him up and cradled him to her chest. She closed her eyes as the wolf pack descended on her, and tore her and her baby to pieces.

The Kiowa say the wolf pack who fed on Pamuya and her baby were cursed to be reborn as human. They were cursed to turn during the full moon, cursed to taste human suffering, taste human pain, taste human love, and cursed to be hunted like the animals they were and die a predator’s death.

But there’s different version of that story. Some say the pack of Greys didn’t kill Pamuya. Instead, she bled out during labour. She died as her son came into the world while a silent pack of wolves watched. They say the female Alpha who led the pack carried off the human baby and took him to her den. She claimed him as her own and dropped him in her litter among her own pups. The wolf pups took one sniff at the stranger they knew that he was their brother. They say, the baby clung onto life and suckled her wolf milk like a wolf pup.

Years later, the Apache spoke of a boy with raven black hair like a Kiowa and sky eyes like the Stranger’s. This boy howled and ran in the woods with a pack of wolves. They say this boy only ate raw meat and very soon they were calling him Wolf Demon.

Wolf Demon wasn’t afraid of anything. Wolf Demon would go into the camps and steal things. First he stole random useless things like a horseshoe, a hat left outside, and a wooden crate. But one day Wolf Demon stole a girl. They say he carried her off and raped her in the woods.

But there are some romantics who say she went willingly into the wilderness with him. No one knew why he picked the Maiden. When he looked upon her face and saw a part of himself and he knew he had to take her. Between the Maiden and the Wolf Demon, an abomination known as werewolves was born.”

 

#### ***

The room had turned sombre and cold.

“He saw a part of himself in her?” Stiles asked

“Yes,” Derek said waiting for the truth to sink in.

“Oh my god, she was…”

“Yes.”

“The symbol that Pamuya drew in the snow, it was a triskele?”

“Yes,” Derek repeated solemnly.

“Oh.” Stiles dropped his head on the bed. “That was just unnecessarily tragic,” he said. “Which version of the story do you believe?” Stiles gave Derek a sideways glance.

Derek shrugged. “Does it matter?”

It didn’t, not then anyway.

Stiles sat up on the bed and started kissing Derek.

Derek returned the kiss, open-mouthed and hungry. Stiles’ heart was a drum beating hard and steady against his chest. Derek’s cock pulsed to its rhythm, his mouth watered involuntarily at the heady human scent of Stiles’ body. _Human, so tragically human_ , he thought as he captured Stiles’ lips. He wanted to sink his teeth in the warm crook between Stiles’ neck and shoulder, he wanted to spread Stiles open and make him−

Derek felt panic rising up in his chest. He pulled away. Stiles looked up at him, confusion and longing clouding his eyes. Derek took a deep breath. When he finally spoke, his voice never broke, never shook, and never betrayed him. “One day, Stiles, you will see me as I really am, and you won't like what you see.”


	8. Chapter 8

He felt the most freedom when he was running in the woods. He could run in the woods for hours, chasing imaginary prey, leaping over old wood trunks− 

The stench of human blood was thick and heavy in the air. He doubled back to find the source. Frosty twigs crunched under his paws. He could feel hidden eyes watching him. _This is your house_ , the night told him. He growled softly, scanning the giant redwoods surrounding him. This was his territory; wolves that weren’t his Betas had no right to be here. He growled again daring the trespasser to show itself. _Two scents, two wolves_ , the night whispered to him.

He had almost missed the second scent since the scents were almost identical. Two scents, two wolves. He was outnumbered. He backed cautiously into the trees when he saw big, ruby eyes watching him from the bushes. He growled stalking towards the bushes. A howl came from behind him. He turned and saw a Grey slinking towards him. The first Grey, who had been watching in the bush, started to advance towards him. Soon they were circling him like he was their prey. The two wolves were identical in every way, same colour, same size.

The two Greys were Alphas, he could tell by the scent they gave off. They circled him, snarling and growling, lips pulled tightly over teeth, dagger-sharp canines exposed.

He crouched back on his heels, daring them to attack him. The first Grey leaped towards him, snapping its jaws at him. He lunged at the other wolf and quick as lightning he closed his mouth around its jaw, angrily whipping his head back and forth, tossing the Grey like it was a dead thing in his mouth.

The second Grey dashed towards him and clamped its jaw around one of his forepaws. He yelped in pain and released his grip on the first Grey. The wolves crouched to spring.

 His leg was bleeding where the first Grey had bit him. He stood on three legs instead of four. He knew these woods better than them. All he had to do was lead them to the top of the cliffs overlooking the river and push them over. They would unfortunately survive the fall but this would give him enough time to get away. _Run,_ the night screamed at him.

He backed away slowly. They followed, advancing towards him. Once they were a few feet away, he put weight on his injured paw and ran into the woods hoping the Greys would follow. The Greys separated, one chasing him from the right, and the other chased him from the left. 

He dashed between the trees, running up and up towards the rocky cliffs. He could hear the Greys panting behind him. Up and up and up they chased! _Faster, faster,_ the night urged.  They chased him into the clearing; they chased him up the rocky cliffs. He dashed towards the edge were the bright lights filled the endless horizon. Over the rocky edge, the icy river flowed below. The sharp jagged rocks would do the job. The Greys snarled in victory as they stalked towards him.  He dropped low onto the rocks and bared his canines, daring the Greys to come closer. He could feel the anger welling up inside him. This was his territory! They had no right to be there, no right−

He wasn’t expecting the Greys to leap in unison at him.

Out of instinct he backed away, closer to the cliff edge.

 _You’re falling_ , the night whispered. The night gave him a cold kiss and let him go.

His paws clawed frantically at the cold smooth stones.  He lost his footing and fell over.

His paws clawed at the cold air as the rocky cliffs rose up to meet him. His body hit the rocks, along the cliffs, bounced off and dropped straight down into the river.

The world went black as the icy water swallowed him whole.

#### ***

Stiles drove with the windows down, letting the cold night air rush in, as he tapped his hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio.

He had dropped Scott off at the Veterinary office after they'd had an awesome lacrosse practice. _For a change, I actually knew what I was doing during practice,_ Stiles thought. And Coach had even commented on how much he'd improved. There was a pretty good chance that he get off the bench for the next game.  He whistled, drumming on the steering wheel. He was buzzing with happiness; he raised the volume of the radio as a new song started playing.

The Jeep was the only car on the road, as he drove around a sharp bend. Stiles shifted to a lower gear, the road was pretty deserted for 10 pm. He turned on the high beams. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shape running alongside the road, half hidden by the trees that bracketed the road. He turned the volume back down. For a fleeting moment, Stiles thought about pulling the window up but decided against it. He was being silly. Sure, he lived in Beacon Hills where weird things happened on a daily basis, but there wasn’t anything to worry about.

As if in reply, it started drizzling _. Great, just swell_ , he thought, _Rain in the middle of November in California?_

Stiles turned on the windshield wipers, cursing under his breath. _Dark, creepy road, check. Distraction, check. Innocent victim all alone, check._ _I am  the opening scene of a horror movie_ , he thought to himself as he glanced down at his watch. 

The rain was starting to come down hard. There was a figure in the middle of the road -- he swerved, the Jeep swung violently, and skidded into a halt.

Stiles spent a few moments breathing hard; he pulled the parking brake up and jumped out of the car.  He dug into his pockets and found his iPhone, he shone it in front of him as a makeshift flashlight.

There was a large dark grey wolf lying in the middle of the road. Stiles cautiously took a step towards the Grey trying to figure out if it was dead.  The Grey whimpered and opened its dark blood-red eyes.

 “Derek?” Stiles crouched down by the wolf.  “Derek?” The rain was coming down hard on them. Stiles shielded his iPhone from the rain with his hand.  He punched in Scott’s number but his phone was blinking as it switched off. Shoot! His phone was dead. He shoved it into his pocket and took off his tracksuit jacket and placed it over the Grey. “I was going to call Scott but my phone just died on me. I’m going to get you help, okay?” he said to Derek.

The Grey just whimpered and closed its eyes.

Stiles panicked and placed his hand on to the wolf’s throat. “Don’t stop breathing on me, because I will not, I repeat, I will not perform CPR on you like this,” he said. He was relieved when he felt a pulse.  He needed to get Derek into the Jeep, but he wasn’t sure if he should move him. The Grey was five feet long and probably weighed 160 pounds. _Dammit_ , he thought as he scooped up the wet shaggy beast in his arms. “You owe me a new jacket, do you know that?” he said to the Grey.  He placed the wolf on the back seat of the Jeep. “I have no idea where to take you,” Stiles said, adjusting the review mirror to look at Derek.  The Grey was lying so still and quiet in the car.  “I can’t take you to Denton since there is bad blood between the two of you. I have no idea where Isaac is… How come you always end up being my problem?” he asked. 

The wolf lifted his head as if to answer and then lowered it again.

“Great,” Stiles said as he started the car.

 _Eff my life_ , he thought as he drove home.

#### ***

Despite the semi-darkness inside the garage, Stiles could tell that Derek was shivering. By the time Stiles got to the back seat of the Jeep, Derek had shifted into human form. He was lying in a foetal position under Stiles’ red lacrosse jacket and his hair was still wet from the rain. 

“I’ll get you a blanket,” Stiles said as he ducked his head into the car.

Derek sat up, pulling the jacket over his shoulder. “I just need a shower and some clothes,” he said, wiping absently at the raindrops on his skin, his face half turned away.

“Derek, what happened? I almost hit you, what were you doing out there?”

“I was in the river.”

“In this cold weather?” Stiles demanded.

“Not by choice… I fell in.” Derek’s eyes went dark. “I lost my footing on the cliffs.”

There was obviously more to the story. Stiles sighed.  Derek hadn't told him the whole truth. _This is not the time or the place_ , he thought.  “I’ll grab you a towel.”

 

#### ***

 _I use to have nightmares about dying,_ Derek thought _. So many different scenarios of how I would draw my last breath_ … _being cut in half by a hunter, being set on fire by Kate Argent, being cut in half by Chris Argent, so many scenarios._ Being chased by two Alphas, falling off a cliff, falling in an icy river and almost dying of hypothermia had not made the list. _Maybe sending Peter away hadn’t been such a good idea after all,_ he thought. _My pack consists of only two members; I am easy pickings_. The water was warm bliss. Derek turned his face up under the shower head, letting the warm spray wash over him. When he had fallen off the cliff, the impact had knocked him out instantly. Those few minutes he had been out, had felt like an hour, a day, a year _. Why do we die in slow motion_? When he finally came around, he was trapped in a watery grave. His first thought was that he was having another nightmare. _This time there was no one to wake me._

He turned the water up. _Fuck_ , he needed to get back out there; he needed to isolate one of the Alphas. Taking on two Greys at the same time had been a stupid idea. But what else could he have done? They had cornered him, forced him to run, forced him to react, and forced him to use his primal instincts. Derek watched as his blood swirled around the rim of the drain before it disappeared down it. The scratches and cuts that he received during the fight had healed. There wasn’t any visible evidence on his body that he had been attacked or had fallen off a cliff and almost drowned in a bone-chillingly cold river.

His thoughts wandered back to the Greys. They knew where he would be, they knew who he was, and they were purebreds. Just like him.

 

#### ***

Stiles was trying to finish his homework, trying being the operative word. Since he was actually staring at a blank page in his notebook and he’d been staring at it for the past ten minutes. Across the hall, he could hear the water running. Derek was using _his_ shower. Derek was naked in his shower and Stiles had to sit there and _listen_.

 _It’s not fair_ , he found himself thinking.

Stiles turned the page and forced his eyes to focus on the words.  It took him a few seconds to realise that he was staring at yet another blank page.

It wasn’t fair.

The chair fell backward as Stiles got up abruptly.

Stiles would sneak glances at the other boys in the showers. There were many boys. There were boys with hollow concave chests with ribs that jutted out, painfully sharp. There were boys who carried more weight and had soft pudgy bodies that spilled out like porridge. They were boys who were tanned and had freckled backs, boys who were pale as milk. Boys who were broad shouldered, boys with sleek narrow shoulders. Then there were boys with fairly decent athletic bodies like Scott and Jackson. Despite how different all those boys appeared, they all had something in common.

Their bodies all shared the same quality.

All boys look vulnerable and weak when they're naked.

Stiles felt light-headed as he stepped inside the bathroom. The steam from the shower was warm and misty. Derek stood under the shower head with his back turned. Smoky tendrils of steam rose off his body. Even though Stiles couldn’t see his face, Stiles knew that Derek was deep in thought. The triskele on Derek’s back knotted tightly in tension. Stiles could tell by the way Derek’s shoulders were slumped forward. It was as if he carried a great weight on his back. Stiles wanted to run his hands over him and massage away the tension. _Whatever burdens he carries, I want to feel it. I want to feel it for him. So that he won’t have to feel it alone_.

For the longest moment, all he could do was just watch. Derek half turned his face towards Stiles. And their eyes locked. Pretty soon it was Derek who was watching. He was watching Stiles, watching him.

He turned his whole body to face Stiles.

Derek Hale was a man and not a boy. There was nothing vulnerable or weak about his body.

Stiles inhaled sharply.

He had seen Derek naked before, but the night in the woods kind of didn’t count since it had been pretty dark, and that encounter hadn’t prepared him for this. Because he was in no shape or form prepared for the full impact of a naked Derek Hale standing before him. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long lean sinewy muscles pulled tightly over bone. A perfect balance of grace and strength. He was the definition of masculine beauty.

Derek studied him with casual interest. His blue, grey, green − whatever colour Derek’s eyes were -- unblinking, unwavering, unyielding. Derek’s sheer nonchalance about standing naked before Stiles made him seem so arrogant, so untouchable. Water rained down on him. Stiles’ eyes followed the water drops. They ran down Derek’s neck, down his pectorals, over his abs, passed his navel, and they disappeared down into the dark hairs of his crotch.

A warm blush crept up Stiles’ neck. Stiles swallowed loudly, gulping what felt like a gallon of air. His mouth felt hot and dry. His first impulse the moment they had locked eyes was to run. Correction, the only impulse he had was to run.

Stiles took a step forward.

As if in a trance, fully dressed in jeans, T-shirt and his muddy Adidas sneakers, socks and all, Stiles walked right into the shower with Derek.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles forcefully pushed Derek back against the wall and kissed him. Without breaking the kiss, Derek grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, flipped them around, trapping Stiles between the white tiled wall and his body. He braced his palms back up against the smooth slippery tiled surface as they kissed under the shower head with the warm water raining down on them.

Stiles’ sneakers filled up with water, his wet clothes dragged down on his body, and he didn’t care at all. The whole world outside melted away the moment Derek’s mouth touched his. He wanted to stay trapped in that dream for as long as possible.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ hands, circling his wrist with his thumb and index finger. “Hold on to me,” he urged gruffly.

Stiles’ arms rose up and encircled Derek’s neck. Effortlessly, Derek lifted him up against the wall. As Stiles slid up the wall, he braced his arms around Derek’s shoulders. Derek captured Stiles’ lips and groaned into Stiles’ mouth when Stiles' lips parted to let his tongue in. The groan went up a few decibels when Stiles started to slowly suck on his tongue.  Stiles smiled. Derek was responding to him. Derek wanted him, Derek was hard for him. Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s shoulders. The water was starting to go cold. “Do you want to go to my room?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded against him and slowly released him. Stiles slid down from the wall. His legs were wobbly beneath him as his sneakers made contact with the shower floor. Derek paused to turn the taps off; he grabbed a towel and ran it briskly through his hair.

When Stiles walked out of the bathroom, his sneakers made a squishy sound on the tiles and left a trail of mud on the floor.

With his back turned to Derek, Stiles clumsily stripped his cold wet clothes off. All his fingers had turned into thumbs which made the process of undressing much slower. Once he was naked, he left his clothes in a soggy pile on the floor.

Derek came up behind him and pressed his warm naked body against Stiles’ back, resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder. As he held Stiles close, he his cock pushed between Stiles' thighs so when Stiles looked down he could see the tip of Derek’s cock peeking out, right there beneath his own.  They were both so desperately hard and aching. He twisted out of Derek’s embrace and turned around, backing Derek onto the unmade bed. They landed silently on the power blue and white duvet.

As they kissed, Stiles thought about all the times they had been on his bed sleeping, all the times he wanted to reach for Derek but he had been too terrified to even entertain the thought, all the times they had made out on his bed. He wondered why neither of them had tried to push things further. All those times, all those nights, it would have been so easy to close the space between their bodies and just fuck.

“God, Stiles,” Derek whispered. His eyes were dark with lust as he raked his teeth against Stiles' lips. “You have no idea how much I want this… but…”

Of all the things Derek could have said, this took Stiles by surprise. It was so out of the blue. Taken aback, Stiles sat up on his heels. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Derek dropped his eyes. “I couldn’t allow myself, I _can’t_ allow myself. You have no idea…”

“What?” _Seriously?_ Stiles thought, and then he started laughing.

Derek eyes narrowed.

“How every Harlequin Romance of us, to be totally unaware that we are both so desperately attracted to each other, even though all the signs had been there all along and we missed them,” Stiles said jokingly.

Derek picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

Stiles caught it in mid-air, tossed it over his shoulder and crawled on top of Derek. “Seriously, we need to have sex right now and make up for lost time,” he murmured as he slid his naked body against Derek. “We should fuck until neither of us can see straight anymore.” He bucked against Derek. “We should fuck until there is no more oxygen going to our brains.”

It was Derek’s turn to laugh. He cradled the back of Stiles head. “It’s so easy for me to forget how heartbreakingly sixteen you are. Then you say things like, let’s fuck until our brains stop working and you remind me,” he teased.

Stiles grinned down at him. “My dad’s out tonight. This time there’s nothing stopping us.”

Derek pulled at Stiles' wrists, encircling them. “Stiles, it’s not that simple. You don’t just do something because you want to. I feel like everything I’ve told you went in through one ear and out the other.” Derek’s eyes clouded. “Who you fuck at sixteen should be a mere blip in the bigger picture that’s your life.”

Stiles frowned at him and then rolled off him. “What are you saying?”

Derek clenched his jaw. “Have you even thought about what could happen if we had sex? Have you even considered how it would change you?”

Stiles was puzzled. What the hell was Derek talking about? He wanted to ask but instead he said, “Hell yeah, I’ve considered it I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore that’s for sure.”

Derek sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant. Why are you being like this? Do you want it to change you? I’m trying my _damnedest_ to protect you from something you are not equipped to handle _right now_ and you insist on acting like a fucking child.”

“Get out.”  Stiles sat up, looking around his room for his clothes. Derek was obviously not interested in having sex with him.

“Stiles…”

“Get the fuck out of my bed.” _Out of my bed, out of my room, out of my life._

“Whatever it is that makes me an Alpha is in my blood, my spit, and my come. If I expose you to whatever it is in me, there is a possibility the sex could turn you. Just like the bite from Peter turned Scott.  Now ask yourself, Stiles, do you really want to risk that?” Derek swung his legs off the bed and sat up.

“You told Scott that the bite was a gift.”

“Yes, I said that, but that was before all the bullshit with the Kanima and Gerard Argent. I’ve changed a lot since then and I decided that I will never turn another human ever again. I screwed up Jackson, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica’s lives. And I can’t do something like that again. ”

“What if I wanted you to turn me?”

“The answer would be no.”

“What if I begged?”

“Especially if you begged.” Derek shook his head. “I wouldn’t even consider it.”

“What if I was dying? Would you consider it then?”

“Stiles…” Derek looked hurt. “Don’t you ever talk like that, do you understand me?”

“What about Scott and Allison?” Stiles shot back, “They've had sex and nothing has happened.”

Derek sighed deeply. “Scott is not an Alpha. He can’t turn her,” he said, with what looked like practiced patience.

Stiles’ already knew that but he wasn’t about to tell Derek. “Derek… I’m sorry,” he said. “About what I said to you, I wasn’t thinking _.” Well, not with my head anyway,_ he thought _._ “You can stay here tonight if you want. We don't have to have…. you know.”  His gaze flickered over Derek’s body. Of all the scenarios he had imagined for tonight, going to bed a virgin had not been one of them.

Derek sat back down on the bed and rolled on to his back, staring at the ceiling.

_So not fair._

“I want you to stay human,” he said. His voice was so low it almost sounded like he was talking more to himself than to Stiles.  “I want you to stay tragically human.”

 

#### ***

Derek spent the better part of the night listening to the sound of Stiles breathing. _Coming here was a huge mistake_ , he thought. _I can see it now_. It was nearly impossible to pick out a scent from a moving car, but if the two Greys had somehow managed to do it, they could end up following it directly to Stiles’ doorstep.

Derek had made a lot of mistakes lately. The biggest mistake was letting Stiles get under his skin. Derek sighed. It would be dawn soon. He needed to leave before Stiles woke up. He needed to leave while he still had the sense to do so. Derek got up as silently as he could and glanced over at Stiles. Stiles made content sounds in his sleep. For a moment, Derek wished he could see Stiles’ dreams flickering on a screen, like a vintage film. He wished he could catch a glimpse of what Stiles saw behind his closed lids. He wished he knew what Stiles was dreaming about. He wanted to be part of that dream. Derek placed his palms flat against Stiles' forehead. His skin felt like warmth and happiness.

Derek pulled his hand back; he had no right to touch Stiles, no right to even want him. But it was too late, he had already said too much, admitted too much. There was no going back now.  _The fragile balance of trying to stay sane and keeping my emotions in check when my every instinct is turned on full blast is hard enough to do when I’m alone in the woods_ , he thought.  But to do it around Stiles, somebody he actually cared about, it was just dangerous. Being in his wolf form around Stiles was confusing in more ways than one

Derek’s ears pricked when he heard Sheriff Stilinski’s car coming up the driveway.  The Sheriff was coming home after a night shift at the County Sheriff’s Office. _Stiles’ dad is home,_ he thought _. I wonder what would happen if he walked in through that door and found me naked in bed with his son,_ he mused.  _I’m not sticking around to find out, that’s for sure._

Derek carefully got off the bed. When Stiles had found him on the road, he was in full Alpha form but he had shifted into human form by the time he got to Stiles' house. Leaving in full Alpha seemed the best option. He could feel the cold moon taking a final bow and the warm sun preparing to take her place. He had to leave by the window and shift once he was outside. Derek looked at the table by the bed. Before he left, he needed to do something. He reached for the notebook and flapped it. The pages were blank.

The paper made a soft shredding sound as he carefully tore a page from the notebook.

#### ***

The warm yellow morning light was already streaming through the blinds by the time Stile woke up. He reached for Derek’s spot on the bed and his hand made contact with… nothing. Derek was gone, again.

 _Fuck_ , Stiles thought as he remembered what happened last night and all the flashbacks of all the things he had said to Derek came rushing back to him. He had acted like a complete idiot.

Stiles threw the sheets over his head and groaned. What the hell was he thinking, coming on to Derek like that? _Stilinski, when will you learn?_ There was an origami wolf on his pillow.

Derek had left him another message. It was a Catch 22 situation. In order for Stiles to read the message he had to destroy the origami wolf in the process. Stiles wanted to read the message but he also wanted to keep the origami wolf as well. He lifted the origami wolf from his pillow. It was made out of paper from his notebook this time.  He smiled. A _t least Derek has a better use for my schoolbooks._

Stiles carefully unfolded the paper.

“Yes!” Stiles jumped up onto the bed, pumping his fist into the air. He did a little excited dance on the bed.

He must have been making a lot of noise as his dad came knocking at his bedroom door.

“Stiles, what in the world are you doing in there?” his dad demanded on the other side of the door.

“Nothing, dad! I’m just excited that today is going to be a really good day.”

Stiles heard his dad knocking briskly on his bedroom door.  Stiles scrambled off the bed and grabbed a sheet to cover up.

But his dad knew better than to walk in unannounced into his hyperactive, sexually frustrated son’s room in the morning. “There are muddy tracks from the bathroom all the way to your room, son. I’m expecting to see them cleaned up before you leave for school!”

 _Shoot!_ Stiles had forgotten about that. “Yes, dad!” he shouted.

He paused and looked at the paper in his hand. _A really, really awesome day_ , he thought as he read Derek’s message again.­


	10. Chapter 10

Morning traffic blurred across his car window. Stiles’ eyes flickered to his watch. _I’m going to be late for school_ , he thought. He tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, as he waited for the traffic light to change. He was taking a detour to Walgreen's pharmacy. _Since there’s no way I can sneak out during school, I have to do this now_ , he thought.

His homeroom teacher rarely took a register to check if all students signed to that particular homeroom were all there. The only person who would actually notice his absence would be Scott.

 _Finally_ , he thought as the lights turned green. _It felt like they had been red for a whole hour_.

 

#### ***

As he parallel parked, Stiles checked his watched yet again. _I’m definitely going to miss homeroom_ , he thought. He wasn’t worried. He had an excuse, well, a couple of excuses, already planned just in case he got caught…

_Balinski, why are you late?_

_Coach, I have ADHD so I had to rush to the drugstore this morning to get some Adderall and−_

_Okay, enough, kid. I didn’t ask for your life story. Get back in class._

_Dude, why are you late?_

_I went to Walgreen's to refill my prescription… Hey look, there’s Allison!_

Stiles smiled and his keys rattled in his hands as he dashed inside the drugstore.

Stiles grabbed one of the green shopping carts and headed for the nearest aisle. _What is it about pharmacies and hospitals? They always have the AC on full blast_ , he thought as he pulled the zip on his jacket closed all the way to the top.

He ducked his head. He felt so self-conscious inside the store. The store attendant, a tall, heavyset middle-aged man, was watching him. _He probably thinks I’m going to steal something_. Stiles walked slowly between the aisles. He was in the baby section, and he knew which aisle to go to get what he was looking for. He was stalling because he was nervous.

 _Stilinski, you got this! Just march over to the aisle, grab some KY and the biggest box of condoms you can find! Head straight to the checkout till, look the shopper’s assistant straight in the eye when you pay. There’s nothing to be scared of, nothing to be ashamed of, he doesn‘t even know you. He doesn’t know what you are going to do with the items− but he sure does have a pretty good idea! He will probably pat you in the back and tell you what a responsible young man you are and then he will tell you deserve a medal. Hell, he’ll even probably tell you that all the items are for free. He’ll shout ‘Go Get IT Stilinski! Stilinski is DA MAN!’ when you walk out the door._ Stiles smiled.

The shop assistant, Marvin, as his name badge read, _did not_ pat him on the back. Stiles could barely make eye contact with him.

When Marvin scanned the KY he looked up at Stiles and his beady eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you the Sheriff’s kid?” he asked, squinting his rheumy eyes at Stiles.

It was a loaded question.

Stiles blushed and stared out the glass doors. He could see the parking lot where he parked his Jeep. _I wish I was inside it right now driving away_ , he thought. He wished he was at homeroom. He wished he was where he was supposed to be instead of Walgreen's. “Yeah, the Sheriff is my dad,” Stiles finally said.

Then Marvin proceeded to slowly, ever so slowly, scan the giant box of condoms.

Stiles’ face was burning.

Marvin _did not_ give him a discount. “That would be five dollars and fifty cents.” Those beady, watery blue eyes scrutinised him.

Stiles fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar note.

Marvin took the note. “Your dad, Sheriff Stilinski, is a good guy, a real salt of the earth type.” He said, “We play touch football with the Sheriff Department every other Sunday.”

 _You know my dad, I get it_ , Stiles thought but instead he forced a smile on his face and said, “That’s great.” He took the small brown paper bag and headed for the door.

“Kid, wait!”

Stiles stopped and his heart sank down to his knees as he turned around.

A petite woman with long dark shoulder length auburn hair was pushing a stroller as she walked through the door. A toddler was guzzling a juice box inside the stroller.

“Oh, you forgot the lube!” Marvin shouted behind him.

The mom paused and gave Stiles a pointed look.

Stiles groaned internally as he rushed back and grabbed the KY, stuffing it inside the paper bag. “Thanks.” _Please, please don’t tell my dad_ , he wanted to say to Marvin, as he tried to silently implore Marvin with his eyes.

But Marvin was whistling and no longer looking at him.

 _Eff my life_ , Stiles thought as he drove to school.

#### ***

Derek slowly closed the door behind him as he stepped inside Stiles’ bedroom. The Stilinski house was quiet and empty. The Sheriff was at the station and Stiles was at school. There was no one around to disturb him.

Finding the spare key to the house had been easy. Cold metal had a distinct scent. Also, the key had been hidden under the mat on the porch. It took Derek less than three seconds to find it.

 _Breaking and entering in the Sheriff’s house, nice going, Hale,_ he thought _. Technically_ _no breaking, just entering._

Derek’s eyes wandered around the room. _Very neat and clean for a teenage boy_ , he found himself thinking as he scanned the room. But Stiles was not like other boys, that he knew for sure.

The bed wasn’t made. The sheets were half hanging off the bed and the closet doors were wide open. Derek could see shirts hung up neatly. He walked over to it and ran his hands over the different coloured shirts. There were plaid shirts, plain button down shirts and T-shirts neatly folded up in a pile. There was also a dark dinner jacket in the furthest corner of the closet. Derek touched the dinner jacket. _Prom_ , he wondered as he dropped his hand. Stiles must have worn it the night he took Lydia to the dance. From what Scott had told him, Derek had been able to piece together all the events of that night.

He remembered that night very well. He'd spent most of it locked up in the Argent’s basement. Derek’s hands involuntarily balled up into fists as memories of the hours of torture and taunts he had suffered at the hands of Kate Argent flooded him. Physically he could take the torture. It was the memories of when they were still together that haunted him the most. Those memories of how she had played him, how she had seduced him, how she had used him. Those memories were the knife in the gut that caused him the most pain. By the time Kate Argent had him tied up in her basement, he was a different person.

_Don’t you see, Kate? You can’t manipulate me anymore. You can’t hurt me. I’m not sixteen anymore. You made me, you created this. Do you know that my uncle Peter is now a murderous psychopath, thanks to you? Do you even understand what you did? Peter killed Laura so he would become the Alpha. You think you are hunting him, but he is hunting you…_

He had been sixteen, ready to give up his life to be with her. Ready to do whatever it took. She consumed his every waking moment, she consumed his every thought, and he loved her. But to Kate, he'd been just a pawn, a toy, a plaything for her to use then she burnt down his house with his entire family inside. _How could I ever think I was in love with you_? He wanted to scream at her. _Why?_ He wanted to howl at her. _You should have killed me too._ God, he wanted to bite her. He wanted to rip her throat out. He wanted to wound her. He wanted to see the blood gush out from her veins. He wanted lean over her body and watch. He wanted to see the life slowly drain out of her. He wanted to see the fire in her green eyes _go out_. Extinguished, slowly and quietly, like a Blood Moon in October.

Then he wanted to hold her.

He wanted to hold her until she was nothing, but a cold dead thing in his arms.

Cold and dead just like him. Derek blinked his suddenly too dry eyes. He blinked away the ash soaked memory even as another floated to the surface...

_Six months had passed since the fire that destroyed the Hale house. His family was dead and it was his fault. He had dropped out of Beacon Hills High school. Some of his teachers had tried to talk him out of it, promising to give him extra credit if he agreed to finish, but Derek wasn’t interested in going back. So he didn’t graduate with the rest of his class._

_“You can’t live like this, Derek. You need to let the past go. How long are you going to beat yourself up for what happened? You survived, I survived, then we survived, that must count for something?”_

_Laura pulled him into her arms. Derek flinched from her touch. But she tightened her grip on his arm nonetheless. She was his Alpha. She was his sister._

_“I’m not going to let you fade away,” she whispered. “I’m going to stay here right next to you until you come back. I need you back. Derek, please look at me.”_

_He could hear the pain and fear in her voice. Laura had seen too much. She had seen him spend days in bed, not eating, not sleeping. When he finally did sleep, he would wake up screaming until the sound of her voice soothed him back to sleep. Then she had seen him sleep for days and days on end. He would curl up on a bare mattress with only a thin blanket pulled tightly over his shoulders. She had seen him running in the woods for hours, then him doing endless push ups and sits up in the yard. She had seen him pummel the leather punching bag in the basement until it was an empty stack streaming sand._

_Laura had watched all of it, in silence, too caught up in her own grief to pull him out._

_When they removed all the bodies from the house, they found six remains in total. The coroner wrapped the bodies tightly in white body bags and took them away. The smell of the charred remains of their family had caused Laura to break down in choking tears and she had collapsed beside him in the yard. Derek had stood still in stony silence watching, feeling absolutely nothing._

_During the funeral, he had also stood next her. Laura had her hands tightly folded with his hands as she cried silently next to him._

_But Derek didn’t cry._

_When Laura got up to speak, she read a Kiowa prayer. Derek’s eyes scanned the faces of the people in attendance. He knew most of them. It was a small funeral attended by twenty or so close friends and extended family of the Hale family. Derek eyes eventually locked with those of Doctor Deaton. Deaton nodded curtly to him._

_Derek turned his face away._

_He couldn’t remember which prayer his sister read. It must have been pretty moving, he thought. By the end, everybody was crying, even Deaton._

_“I’m taking you away. We are going to leave this place and we will never come back.” Laura’s voice dragged him back to the present._

_Her long dark hair pooled like water around him. Derek’s arms rose up and he touched her hair, blinking the ash away._

#### ***

Derek closed the closet door, _I have no right to be here_ , he thought as he looked around the empty bedroom. He put the key in his pocket. He went over to Stiles’ desk and sat down. His eyes wandered over the open textbooks: Chemistry, Calculus and Biology. Derek opened a drawer and looked inside. There were pens, a ruler and three Sharpies. He closed the drawer.

Derek took his leather jacket off and dropped it on Stiles’ bed. He sat on the bed as he bent down to unlace his boots. He kicked the shoes off and crawled into Stiles’ bed.

He took a deep breath. Stiles’ scent was everywhere. His scent clung to the sheets the way lilacs cling onto the forest floor long after spring had ended. The same way dandelions cling onto a wolf’s fur long after the wolf had left the plains. Derek exhaled. _I like his scent,_ he thought. _I can admit it that to myself now._ Derek plumped up a pillow and laid his head down. He sighed and curled up on Stiles’ bed.

His eyes closed almost involuntarily. _I survived, you survived, then we survived. Surely that must count for something?_


	11. Chapter 11

“Do you know that guy?” Scott whispered, indicating a guy who sat alone at the table across them.

Stiles glanced discreetly over. He was a transfer student, a sophomore like them. Stiles had seen him around. He had an average build, dark hair, average face, nothing to write home about. “No, why?”

“There’s something off about the way he smells… Something different.” Scott’s eyebrows knitted together.

Stiles bit into his cheeseburger. “What do you mean off?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

Scott frowned and leaned closer to Stiles. “Remember when Derek turned Isaac and I could tell that there was another werewolf in the locker-room just from the way he smelled?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Stiles placed the burger down. “Are you saying he’s like you?”

“No, he’s different. He’s like Derek.”

#### ***

When a feverish werewolf who looks like death tells you he is going to rip your throat out, you shouldn’t get turned on.

It all happened on the day Derek Hale got shot with a bullet laced with wolfsbane. Derek showed up at Beacon Hills High looking for Scott. He somehow managed to manipulate Stiles into helping him. Derek always managed to be Stiles' problem.

Stiles had spent the better part of the drive wondering if Derek could tell if he was aroused. He had even taken the long way to the veterinary’s office to give himself time to… calm down. _Maybe his senses stopped working, since he was so sick_ , Stiles liked to tell himself.

Afterwards, Stiles had pushed the events of that day far into the back of his mind. He had forced himself to forget he ever felt that first flicker of attraction towards Derek. Even when they had spent hours trapped in the pool, those thoughts he felt at the time didn’t feel like his own anymore.

When he had offered to help Derek, he had been sincere for the most part. Stiles had figured out a long time ago that to help Derek, is to help Scott, is to help Stiles – that’s how his world worked.

When he started spending time with Derek, Stiles never thought in a million years that he would come to like Derek. _Like him and want him_. He never thought his unresolved attraction to Derek would come floating to the surface like it never left. He never thought he would crave Derek’s touch, crave the taste of his skin. He never thought he would crave Derek’s smile. He never thought…he never considered−

“Please turn to page 278,” said the teacher. Her voice broke into Stiles’ thoughts.

Stiles mindlessly flipped the pages of his book. Scott didn’t take Biology so Stiles was forced to sit alone at the back staring at the back of Lydia Martin’s head. _At least it was a pretty head to look at,_ he thought.

Lunch with Scott had been weird. To a certain degree, Scott already knew that there was something going on between him and Derek, he just didn’t know what it was yet.

“Please pay special attention to all the diagrams as they will be in the upcoming test,” Mrs Pierce said as she changed the slides on the projector.

Stiles drew an asterisk next to the diagram of the digestive system. There was no way he could tell Scott without betraying Derek’s trust _. I will keep your secret, if you promise to keep mine,_ he had told Derek and he had meant it. Stiles craved more than just his smile. _I want to fuck him,_ he thought, dropping his eyes down.

When sex had come up and Derek had given him the lame excuse about not wanting to turn him, at first Stiles thought Derek was just turning him down. But when he read Derek’s message, he realised that Derek was being sincere. Stiles ran his thumb across the edge of his Biology textbook, thinking about Derek’s message nestled between the pages. He liked the idea of Derek, worrying about his safety.

Stiles phone buzzed in his pocket, he took it out. It was a message from Scott. _Please stay away from Derek_.

 

#### ***

“Derek, Derek!” Scott McCall shouted outside the Hale house.

 _This must be good_ , Derek thought, as he pushed the heavy wooden doors open. He and Scott did not see eye to eye. So whatever reason had Scott coming to Derek’s house must be important.

Scott swung off his bike and kicked it over with the heel of his sneaker. The bike made a loud clunk as it hit the ground. Scott unclipped his blue helmet and threw it to the ground. Scott had been a werewolf for six months now, his body could heal itself just like Derek’s, but he still wore a ridiculous helmet whenever he rode his bike.

 _Old habits die hard_ , Derek thought. “What are you doing here, Scott?” he asked as he walked down the old wooden steps.

“I’m here about Stiles!”

Derek raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

“Whatever you are doing with him, I want you to stop!”

“I can’t.” Derek shrugged. Scott was his Beta he had no right to order him around.

“He's only sixteen. You can’t make the decision for him. He’s my friend.”

“Scott, whatever you think I did, I’m sorry but I haven’t done anything to Stiles,” Derek said as he strolled towards Scott. He could feel the change starting to take over his body.

Scott lunged toward him and knocked Derek off his feet. By the time Derek’s head hit the ground, Derek had already shifted into a werewolf. Half man, half wolf, he was broader and stronger than Scott in every way. Derek chose not to shift into his full Alpha form as Scott didn’t have the same ability, and Derek didn’t like unfair fights. He tossed Scott away from him like a toy. “Stand down, Beta,” he snarled. Derek could have easily ripped at Scott’s throat but he didn’t want to hurt him. _Betas need to be disciplined. If you let them walk over you, they'll be doing it for the rest of their lives_ , his sister used to tell him. He dug his claws into Scott’s chest. The flesh tore. Derek’s hands filled with blood.

Scott yelped and Derek released him. “Scott, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“He’s my friend…” Scott choked out. He sat up and spat out blood, cradling his chest. “Why him?” His voice was so choked up he sounded like he was about to cry.

“Whatever you think, Scott, I didn’t seek him out. It’s a two-way street. It only works if he feels the same way.”

“You don’t know him. He’s never going to let you.”

Derek looked up at the sky. The evening sky had turned into a dark navy. “I’m ok with that.”

Scott’s amber eyes glowed like fireflies in the semi-darkness. “He’s my friend,” he choked out. “He’s my friend.”

“Have you told Allison?” Derek asked, as he bent down to help Scott to his feet.

Scott ignored Derek’s hand, choosing to hobble back up onto his feet instead.

“Have you told Allison?” Derek repeated.

“No,” Scott admitted staring at the ground.

Derek felt something prickle at the back of his eyes. He felt something warm slide down his cheek. When he reached up to touch his face, he realised it was a tear.


	12. Chapter 12

It was the hour of the wolf, when the veil that separated pleasure and pain, happiness and sadness, was at its thinnest _. The time when all my dreams and nightmares come to life,_ Derek thought. He stared up at the night sky. The crescent moon was a thin sharp slice, like a wolf’s fang. The wolf moon provided very little light. Derek felt the cold fingers of winter touch his skin, and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Derek’s breath was a smoky trail in the night air; he warmed his hands with his breath and rubbed them together.  

Derek had spent hours in the woods, trying to find the scent of the Alphas who had attacked him the night before. He was so caught up on his search that he didn’t feel the hours slip by. He didn’t see the sun turn from yellow to orange to finally red, as it disappeared in the horizon. He didn’t feel the day melt away like a snowflake, until the darkness shrouded him. By then, he was so exhausted, all he wanted to do was to go home and sleep. But he didn’t have a home. _The closest thing I have to a home is a six by eleven feet room, inside a house that doesn’t belong to me_ , he thought, as he crossed the street.

The stiff cold leaves crunched under Derek’s boots. It was the only sound he made as he walked across the Stilinski’s yard. The Beacon Hill County Sheriff’s car was parked on the driveway. _Stiles’ dad is home._ This didn’t bother him. Derek had spent many a night in Stiles’ room with the Sheriff completely oblivious to his presence inside the house.

Sometimes, Derek felt like he had an unspoken understanding with the Sheriff. _As long as you come in quietly and leave just as quietly, without leaving a trace of yourself in my house and on my son, we are good_ −but that was hardly close to the truth. Derek stared up at Stiles' window. All the lights inside the house were off, except for Stiles’ room.

There was a giant oak tree that grew next to the window. Derek could climb up it effortlessly, without making a sound. He knew how to balance on the edge of a branch, he knew how to open the window from the outside, he knew how to lift the blinds and he knew how to slip silently like a ghost into Stiles’ bedroom.

The study lamp on the top of Stiles’ desktop was turned downwards and there was a bright spot light on the pile of books on the desk. Stiles must have left it on, for him. Even in human form, Derek could see in the dark, His eyes would adjust to wolf vision whenever the lights went out. But Stiles didn’t know that.

When Derek entered Stiles’ room, he left more than just the cold outside; he left the aching grip of loneliness. Loneliness was a phantom that haunted him; it called out his name when he was inside his house. Derek had started sleeping in the woods in wolf form just to escape it. Yet it stalked him there too. But loneliness was a phantom that couldn’t enter the Stilinski house.

Stiles was curled up in a ball on the bed. He was making content breathing sounds, strange sounds that warmed Derek’s heart and made it hurt, a good kind of hurt, a hurt that Derek wanted to feel. _I lied to Scott_ , he thought. _I did seek him out. I just wasn’t aware I was doing it at the time._

Derek sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and ran it down Stiles’ back. Even through the thin grey cotton T-shirt, Derek could feel the heat of Stiles’ skin. “Hey…” he whispered. “Wake up.” Derek leaned over and kissed the corner of Stiles’ lips.

Stiles stirred and rolled onto his back. He peered at Derek through half-closed lids, and smiled sheepishly. “It’s you… you’re here in my room…” Stiles sounded so surprised, as if Derek, had never been in his room before, never been in his bed before.

“Yes, it’s me… unless there’s another strange man who comes in at night and crawls into bed with you?”

Stiles smiled.

Derek shrugged off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. “Did you read my message?” he asked as he leaned down to unlace his boots. He blushed as he remembered the letter he had left for Stiles. _Run away with me, for a day, for an hour. I promise we’ll figure this out._ His blush deepened _. H_ e was glad Stiles could not see his face.

“Mmmm…” Stiles sighed and he turned over onto his side.

Derek crawled onto the bed and wrapped Stiles in his arms, holding him close against his chest. “And?” he asked as he tucked his chin down on Stiles’ shoulder.

A heartbeat went by, then another, then another.

For a moment, Derek thought Stiles had fallen asleep in his arms. Derek drew him closer to his body, tightening his hold. Stiles sighed contently and Derek knew that he was still awake. _I would wait all night, all year, hell, the rest of my life if that's what you wanted_.

He was still waiting for Stiles’ answer _._

“And…?” Derek hated what he heard in his own voice. His voice didn’t even sound like his own anymore. And for a moment, all the joy, all the peace, he could ever hope to have came down to a three-lettered word balancing on the tip of Stiles’ tongue

“Yes,” Stiles said.

Derek felt his heart kicking. He felt that hurt again, a good kind of hurt.


	13. Chapter 13

I own only what owns me. 

David Lamb ©

#### Part TWO

Stiles dangled his car keys in front of Scott’s face.  “You can have these until Sunday.”

Scott stared at the keys in puzzlement. “Why are you giving me the keys to your Jeep?”

“One, it’s Friday and you want to take Allison out. Two, you don’t have a car and I do, and I won’t be using it this weekend. And three, I’m an awesome friend.” Stiles rattled the keys. “Going… once… going twice…”

Scott snatched the keys from him.

The cafeteria was almost empty, there were no students near their table and they could talk freely without worrying about being overheard. Stiles came around the yellow wooden table and sat next to Scott. 

“I need you to cover for me. I told my dad that I’ll be at your house the whole weekend.” Stiles put his tray down with a clang. “I’ve had done more than my fair share of covering for you, so it’s time you returned the favour.”

Scott was not smiling. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Scott frowned. “Does this have to do with Derek?”

Stiles could hear the disapproval in Scott’s voice. He nodded as he cracked his Coke can open.

“Stiles…”

“Derek’s not a bad person, once you get to− I mean, I just need you to trust that I know what I’m doing and what I’m getting myself into. That’s all.”

Scott stared at his uneaten lunch.  “Where’s he taking you?” he asked in a low voice.

Stiles looked up in surprise. “How do you know that he’s taking me somewhere? Oh wait, is this one of those werewolf things?”

Scott didn’t reply.

“It is, I can see it on your face.”

Scott shrugged. “Stiles, just be careful. If he makes you do anything, anything that you are not cool with-”

“I know, I know, I must just say ‘no’…” Stiles chuckled and bit into his cheeseburger.  “Scott, you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Derek is the one I don’t trust, not you.”

Stiles put down his half-eaten cheese burger. “Scott, he’s not like that. He doesn’t expect-- I mean, we haven’t even…”

There was something sad in Scott’s eyes when he said, “I wish you would have picked someone else. Anyone but him.”

“Scott, I don’t get this. You always tell me how much you hate Derek but as soon as Gerard went missing and Jackson left, you joined his pack and you've never told me why.”

“You never asked me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to ask, I kinda assumed that my best friend would tell me why he changed his mind about something that important.”

“Stiles, I joined Derek’s pack for you. I knew if I didn’t do it he's find a way to hurt me through you.”

“Scott, trust me when I tell you, Derek is a good guy. You just have to spend time with him to see that.” Stiles sighed. “I really don’t know what else to say to you to make you understand.”

Scott stared down at his food. “What? Are you in love with him or something?”

Stiles swallowed. He could hear drumming in his head, and suddenly it hurt to breathe, it hurt to think. “I don’t know.”

 

#### ***

Derek parked the Camaro across the street from Beacon Hills High. The sleek black car was partially hidden by the late afternoon shadows. He didn’t want to go inside the building; he knew his presence would draw unnecessary attention. He had a good vantage point of the school. He closed his eyes and let his ears absorb the all the sounds that came from the building as he tried to find Stiles. His phone rang softly in his pocket.  Derek glanced down, it was Stiles. “Hey…”

“Scott needs me,” Stiles sounded breathless “so I can’t leave just now.”

Derek glanced at the radio clock. “Should I come in?”

“No, it’s cool, it won’t take long.”

And Stiles hung up before Derek could say, _I’m looking forward to spending time with you._

#### ***

Derek drove to the gas station. He wanted to fill the tank before he left Beacon Hills.  As he pumped gas into the Camaro, he spotted a Hunter watching him. The man was tall and broad shouldered like a pit-bull. He wore blue overalls. Derek could smell motor oil on him; he could see the man’s dark dirty finger nails. _A mechanic_.

Laura had taught him how spot Hunters from the get go. _Use your senses, Derek_ , she had said. _Look for signs, watch, be careful and never ever provoke them._

The Hunter filled his car with gas alongside him; the man paused and nodded curtly at him.

Derek nodded back. _You wouldn’t look at me cross-eyed during a full moon. You’d piss your overalls if you ever saw me in my true form_.

The Argents seem to have an endless supply of henchmen who were more than willing to do the dirty work for them. Sometimes Derek wondered where the hell the Argents even found those ill-informed men. _Do the Argents still have their little code?_ He witnessed this so called ‘code’ broken so many times, he had seen the blood, seen the body bags, and he had survived.

 _I survived, you survived, then we survived. Surely that must count for something?_ He heard Laura’s voice in his head.

 _I made up my own code along the way_ , he wanted to tell her.

The Hunter was one of the Argents’ goons in training. Derek could tell by the man’s boldness. _Before this year is over, you’ll probably be dead_ , he thought as he stared at the man’s paraffin blue eyes.

Hunters didn’t live very long, especially the cocky ones.

 


	14. Chapter 14

The evening sun painted streaks of long black shadows, as it made its way down the horizon.  Derek’s car was parked half in shadow, half in light. As the students filed out of Beacon Hills High, Derek’s eyes flickered over the faces, searching for Stiles. 

Derek dropped his head back against the headrest. “What’s taking so long?” A part of him wished Stiles could hear him. He wished Stiles had the powerful hearing that came with being a werewolf. He could remember a time when he would have whole conversations with his sister, when Laura would be on the other side of the woods, and they could talk to each other as if they were sitting next to each other. He stared out the window.

“Stiles…” Derek called out to him even though he knew Stiles couldn’t answer.

Someone else answered, another werewolf.

“Derek, if you hurt him, I’m going to kill you,” Scott said. Derek heard his voice, clear and cold, through the thrumming of students. It came to him from a distance. “I’m going to tell Stiles’ dad.”

Derek’s ears pricked and he got out of the car. Was Scott talking to him from somewhere inside the building? He looked up at the brown brick school building. “Scott, I know you’re not going to do that.”

Scott was silent for a moment.

Derek turned around. His gaze travelled across the street, across the parking lot, to the field and he found Scott standing there, watching him.

“I’m going to tell Allison’s dad,” Scott said.

Even from a distance, Derek could see the determination on his face. “Scott, if you do that you’ll be making a big mistake. People will get hurt, do you understand me?” Derek could feel the dull thrum of pressure inside his head. _If you let a Beta walk over you once they will be doing it for the rest of their lives._ He saw Stiles and Allison shoulder to shoulder making their way to Scott. Stiles was gesturing with his hands, Allison threw back her head and laughed, the big soft curls in her hair bounced with the motion.

Scott’s face broke into a smile when Stiles and Allison reached his side.

Derek watched in silence, then he turned away and he got back into the Camaro. 

Dead leaves danced in the air as the wind rustled. A familiar scent drifted towards him. Derek’s nostrils flared and he felt his eyes turn red. The mingled scents of the Greys who had attacked him in the woods floated in the air. _They are in human form somewhere nearby_ , he thought. Derek got out of the car again and slammed the door.  _Are they watching me_? He wondered as he looked up at the windows. The setting sun reflected off the glass. Even with his wolf vision it was impossible for him to see inside.  _They must be_.

Derek turned back to look at the sports field. Scott and Allison were gone.

Stiles made his way across the parking lot, carrying a backpack. Stiles walked with his eyes on the ground. Even from a distance, Derek could tell that he was smiling. 

As he approached the car, Stiles looked up. When their eyes met, his smile widened.  

Despite the alarm bell ringing somewhere in the back of his head, Derek smiled back. If the Alphas were watching him, they were watching Stiles as well.

Stiles reached the car. “Hey,” he said. “I’m late, I’m sorry. Scott wanted to hang out, and Allison and Lydia tagged along. We had a study group thing at the library. It was fun. I think he misses me or something.”

In one breath, Stiles could say so much and reveal nothing. “Get inside the car,” Derek said, as he opened the door. A look of confusion flicked across Stiles’ face. Wordlessly, Stiles got in the car. He dumped his backpack on the back seat as he sat in the front.

“What’s going on with you and Scott? I keep getting these weird vibes between the two of you. And they’re much higher than usual… I think we should all go get pizza, all three of us, and talk things out and get rid of the giant purple werewolf in the room, what do you say?”

Derek scanned the building one more time. He still couldn’t see anything. Maybe they weren’t watching him. Maybe he was being paranoid. _But I could smell their scent_ , he thought to himself. _They must have been here recently, even a few minutes ago_.

“You could explain to Scott why you marked my house with your Alpha testosterone. Apparently he and all other werewolves can’t go inside the house because of that. We could all just talk and air things out. I’m really sick of the weirdness between the two of you. I’m Lucky Pierre in the middle of it all.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Derek said, turning to face him. “I never wanted to damage your friendship with Scott.” _All I ever do is apologise for things I can’t control._

“Derek, you have to tell him about the nightmares, and Isaac as well. Speaking of Isaac, I hardly see him around anymore. Is he even still part of your pack?”

Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Isaac. Despite that, Isaac was still part of his pack. “He is.”

“I thought you guys would hang out together more often or something,” Stiles said, with a rueful smile.

 _Pack is what you make it_ , Laura had told him the night they drove away from Beacon Hills. _Pack is family. Always protect pac_ k.  _You and I, we are pack. Even though our family is gone, we are still pack._

“Pack is what you make it, Stiles. There are no written rules on what makes pack or how it works.” _Scott will one day leave and form his own pack_. “Are you ready to go?” Derek asked as he started the engine.

The Camaro hummed into life.

“Ready.” Stiles leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Somewhere in the distance, eyes were watching them, Derek could feel the cold hard glare like a physical touch. As he drove away, they spoke to him, a sound that only his ears could hear.

 “Join us… Join us…” the Alphas hissed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE EVENING SUN painted streaks of long black shadows as it made its way down the horizon.  Derek’s car was parked half in shadow, half in light. As the students filed out of Beacon Hills High, Derek’s eyes flickered over the faces, searching for Stiles. 

Derek dropped his head back against the headrest. “What’s taking so long?” A part of him wished Stiles could hear him. He wished Stiles had the powerful hearing that came with being a werewolf. He could remember a time when he would have whole conversations with his sister, when Laura would be on the other side of the woods, and they could talk to each other as if they were sitting next to each other. He stared out the window.

“Stiles…” Derek called out to him even though he knew Stiles couldn’t answer.

Someone else answered, another werewolf.

“Derek, if you hurt him, I’m going to kill you,” Scott said. Derek heard his voice, clear and cold, through the thrumming of students. It came to him from a distance. “I’m going to tell Stiles’ dad.”

Derek’s ears pricked and he got out of the car. Was Scott talking to him from somewhere inside the building? He looked up at the brown brick school building. “Scott, I know you’re not going to do that.”

Scott was silent for a moment.

Derek turned around. His gaze travelled across the street, across the parking lot, to the field and he found Scott standing there, watching him.

“I’m going to tell Allison’s dad,” Scott said.

Even from a distance, Derek could see the determination on his face. “Scott, if you do that you’ll be making a big mistake. People will get hurt, do you understand me?” Derek could feel the dull thrum of pressure inside his head. _If you let a Beta walk over you once they will be doing it for the rest of their lives._ He saw Stiles and Allison shoulder to shoulder making their way to Scott. Stiles was gesturing with his hands, Allison threw back her head and laughed, the big soft curls in her hair bounced with the motion.

Scott’s face broke into a smile when Stiles and Allison reached his side.

Derek watched in silence, then he turned away and he got back into the Camaro. 

Dead leaves danced in the air as the wind rustled. A familiar scent drifted towards him. Derek’s nostrils flared and he felt his eyes turn red. The mingled scents of the Greys who had attacked him in the woods floated in the air. _They are in human form somewhere nearby_ , he thought. Derek got out of the car again and slammed the door.  _Are they watching me_? He wondered as he looked up at the windows. The setting sun reflected off the glass. Even with his wolf vision it was impossible for him to see inside.  _They must be_.

Derek turned back to look at the sports field. Scott and Allison were gone.

Stiles made his way across the parking lot, carrying a backpack. Stiles walked with his eyes on the ground. Even from a distance, Derek could tell that he was smiling. 

As he approached the car, Stiles looked up. When their eyes met, his smile widened.  

Despite the alarm bell ringing somewhere in the back of his head, Derek smiled back. If the Alphas were watching him, they were watching Stiles as well.

Stiles reached the car. “Hey,” he said. “I’m late, I’m sorry. Scott wanted to hang out, and Allison and Lydia tagged along. We had a study group thing at the library. It was fun. I think he misses me or something.”

In one breath, Stiles could say so much and reveal nothing. “Get inside the car,” Derek said, as he opened the door. A look of confusion flicked across Stiles’ face. Wordlessly, Stiles got in the car. He dumped his backpack on the back seat as he sat in the front.

“What’s going on with you and Scott? I keep getting these weird vibes between the two of you. And they’re much higher than usual… I think we should all go get pizza, all three of us, and talk things out and get rid of the giant purple werewolf in the room, what do you say?”

Derek scanned the building one more time. He still couldn’t see anything. Maybe they weren’t watching him. Maybe he was being paranoid. _But I could smell their scent_ , he thought to himself. _They must have been here recently, even a few minutes ago_.

“You could explain to Scott why you marked my house with your Alpha testosterone. Apparently he and all other werewolves can’t go inside the house because of that. We could all just talk and air things out. I’m really sick of the weirdness between the two of you. I’m Lucky Pierre in the middle of it all.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Derek said, turning to face him. “I never wanted to damage your friendship with Scott.” _All I ever do is apologise for things I can’t control._

“Derek, you have to tell him about the nightmares, and Isaac as well. Speaking of Isaac, I hardly see him around anymore. Is he even still part of your pack?”

Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Isaac. Despite that, Isaac was still part of his pack. “He is.”

“I thought you guys would hang out together more often or something,” Stiles said, with a rueful smile.

 _Pack is what you make it_ , Laura had told him the night they drove away from Beacon Hills. _Pack is family. Always protect pack_.  _You and I, we are pack. Even though our family is gone, we are still pack._

“Pack is what you make it, Stiles. There are no written rules on what makes pack or how it works.” _Scott will one day leave and form his own pack_. “Are you ready to go?” Derek asked as he started the engine.

The Camaro hummed into life.

“Ready.” Stiles leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Somewhere in the distance, eyes were watching them, Derek could feel the cold hard glare like a physical touch. As he drove away, they spoke to him, a sound that only his ears could hear.

 “Join us… Join us…” the Alphas hissed.


	15. Chapter 15

Sometime around 3AM Stiles jerked awake and glanced at his watch. Derek had been driving for nine hours. _We must be miles and miles away from Beacon Hills_ , he thought. He sat up “Did I fall asleep?” The last thing he could remember was the Beacon Hill’s skyline turning into a Bokeh back drop of yellow hexagon-shaped lights receding in the distance. Stiles wiped the corner of his lips _. I hope_ _I wasn’t drooling in my sleep,_ he thought.

“You passed out as soon as we left Beacon Hills.” Derek didn’t look at him but Stiles could hear the smile in his voice. “I stopped at a gas station a few hours ago. I’m not sure if you wanted anything, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Stiles watched drops of rain slide down the Camaro’s windshield. The road was dark and he couldn’t see any other cars. He could see giant Californian Redwoods framing the roadside. Stiles rolled down the window. Mountain air, crisp as mint, flowed through the window. “Where are we?”

“We are a few miles outside Beacon Hills.” Derek’s profile was rim lit with yellow.

Stiles rolled the window up and sank back into his seat. “And where are you taking me again? You do remember that my dad’s a cop, right?”

There was a flash of white as Derek smiled in the semidarkness. “You ask too many questions.” He reached out and patted Stiles’ knee.

Stiles closed his fingers around Derek’s hand. “You’re warm,” he murmured.

“Can I have my hand back?” Derek asked. “I need it to shift gears.”

Stiles released him. “I can take over the wheel if you get tired,” he offered. “My Jeep is also a stick shift.”

“We’ll get there much faster if you let me drive.” Derek glanced at him. “Are you hungry? There’s food in the back seat behind you.”

“Yes.” Stiles twisted his body round and elbowed Derek in the face, as he reached over the seat. “Oops, sorry,” he said. Stiles rummaged inside the 7-Eleven shopping bag. “Doritos, M&Ms, Yummy Meats beef jerky, Safari nuts and raisins, Twizzlers, and an apple. Perfect.”

“I didn’t know what you like so I just got you whatever I saw there,” Derek said.

“No, it’s cool, I eat everything.” He popped open the bag of Doritos and started eating.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Stiles chewed loudly. He knew the sound would annoy Derek.

Derek winced and gave him a sideways glance.

Stiles gave him a nonchalant look and continued chewing.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

“Stiles…”

“What, do you want some Doritos?” He offered Derek the bag, waving it below Derek’s nose. Stiles watched with amusement as Derek fought the urge to swat the bag swinging in front of his face.

“Stiles, I’m driving!” He swatted at the bag just as Stiles pulled it away. “And, could you chew any louder?”

“Could you drive any slower?”

“Could you be more of a child?”

“Could you be more of a kidnapper?”

A beat went by then another.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Stiles continued chewing.

Derek stared straight at the road ahead. He settled deeper in his seat. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

“No, not this time, buddy,” Stiles said, through a mouthful of chips. “Maybe one day, I’ll like you enough to let you win an argument.”

Derek glanced at him. There was a strange faraway look in his eyes, before returning his gaze to the road. “Yeah, maybe one day,” he murmured.

 

#### ***

The car slowed to a halt. Derek killed the engine and he looked over to Stiles. “We’re here,” he said. Stiles’ eyes were closed. The bag of Doritos was now half empty and lying on his lap. “Stiles...”

“Mmmm,” Stiles muttered, but he didn’t open his eyes.

Derek unclipped Stiles’ seat belt. “Better get you inside, you are going to freeze out here.” Derek got out of the car and walked around to Stiles’ side. He lifted Stiles by the shoulders.

“Stiles, wake up.”

“Dad…” Stiles mumbled.

“Okay, now I know you’re dreaming.” Derek frowned; he lifted Stiles off the seat and tossed over him over his shoulders into a firefighter's carry. Stiles’ head and arms dangled upside down. Derek closed the car door with his knee.

“Gizmo69 at dash…” Stiles mumbled.

“What?” Derek swung around to keep Stiles’ head from hitting the front of the car.

“The password…”

Derek shouldered the cabin door open. “Mind your head,” he said. The inside of the cabin was dark and Derek’s eyes adjusted as he pushed the door closed. Ten months had gone by since the last time he had been here. _Ten months ago, Laura was still alive, Peter was a vegetable and I’d never heard of Stiles Stilinski,_ he thought _._ So much had happened in ten months.

The wooden floorboard creaked under their combined weight. Derek’s body swayed with each step he took. “You know you’re kinda heavy for someone who is so skinny.”

“Muscle weighs more than fat.”

“He wakes…”

“He woke up to find himself trapped in the past… facing mirror images that were not his own...” Stiles murmured. “And the world was upside down-”

“I couldn’t leave you in the car, could I now?”

“You just wanted an excuse to carry me.”

Derek didn’t bother to deny it. He hitched Stiles higher over his shoulder.

“Dude, its dark in here. Turn the lights on.”

“I would, if there was electricity.”

“No electricity? You’re kidding, right?”

Derek turned a corner. “And why am I still carrying you?”

“Mountain Man.” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“What?” Derek dropped him on the bed.

“You heard me.” Stiles sprawled out on the bed, all plaid, denim, and long limbs. He yawned and kicked his dirty sneakers off his feet and onto the floor.

Derek could see him smiling in the dark. “I could light a candle if you need some light. The sun will be up in two hours.” Candles and matches were on the bedside table.

Stiles rolled onto his side. “No, I just need a blanket… Okay, maybe a couple of blankets.”

The closet was hidden behind the door, inside were more than a couple of blankets carefully shrink-wrapped in plastic with a couple of moth balls rolling around. “I’ll get you one.” Derek leaned over the bed and placed a blanket over Stiles.

Stiles pulled the blankets tightly over his shoulders and sighed. “And the world was upside down,” he whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

The sound of Derek chopping wood woke him.  Stiles sat up on the bed, and scanned the bedroom. He was inside a wooden cabin made of pine. Yellow morning light streamed in from the window. Outside Stiles could see snow-capped mountains peeking behind a curtain of fluffy white clouds. The clouds clothed the mountains all around the middle, which made the mountains look like white castles floating in the sky. It was surreal and beautiful and freezing cold. Stiles pulled the blanket tightly around his shoulders as he sat up. _Where are my sneakers?_ he wondered as he bent down to look under the bed. He couldn’t see anything; the bed was too low to the floor. Stiles rose bumping his head against the foot of the bed in the process. _Dammit_. He rubbed the spot between his brows. He spotted his sneakers half hidden under a rug. Stiles pulled them on. “Derek?” he called.

Stiles decided to explore the cabin. There was a large main room. He opened a door, peering inside. It was a bathroom. Stiles closed it, he walked out to the small compact kitchen. In the living room there was a large fireplace in the hearth of the room. A white bearskin rug covered the floor. The bear’s head grinned at him as he walked by.

“Dude, you’re creepy,” he said to it. “Derek?” Stiles went to the front door and stepped outside.  He could hear the sound of wood chopping.

Out in the snow, Derek chopped wood. He wore dark jeans, black boots and a blue flannel shirt over a white wife-beater.  Stiles stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of him. _Mountain man_ , he thought with a rueful smile as Derek raised the axe above his head. In one swift movement he brought it down hard and split the wood into two with a loud whack. Each time he raised the axe the front of his wife beater would lift up and expose a strip of skin.

The snow crunched under Stiles' sneakers. “Hey…” he stepped around the pile of wood. “How long have you been up?” He glanced at the sky.

Derek's eyes appeared pale grey in the morning light. “A few hours. Did you sleep well?” he asked. Derek placed the hilt of his axe on the ground. Beads of sweat had collected around his brow. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.

Stiles nodded as he tapped the heel of his foot against the pile of wood.

“Are you hungry?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” Stiles replied, “yes, I am.”  He walked towards Derek, grabbed him and started kissing him.

 

#### ***

Derek smiled as Stiles half marched him inside the cabin. They stumbled along the wooden floor and fell into a heap on the bearskin rug. Derek pinned Stiles down with one hand and began to kiss his way up Stiles’ body. The rug bunched up underneath their writhing bodies.

Stiles half pushed him off. “Not here, I feel like that thing…” he indicated to the bear’s head on the rug, “is watching us. it’s kinda creepy.”

Derek smiled and pulled him onto his feet.

“I know you said sex was not on the table because it’s not safe. But we can use condoms.” Stiles rushed out, “I’ve bought a box -- they are in my backpack in the car. We can…” he trailed off and stared at Derek before lowering his eyes and studying the floor.

 _He’s waiting for me,_ Derek thought. _He wants me to take over._

“I can go get−”

 _“_ No, I’ll get them,”Derek said.

When he came back, Stiles was still fully dressed standing in the exact spot that Derek had left him. Derek had expected to find Stiles undressed they the time he came back.

They went to the bedroom and Stiles sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, tapping his feet. Derek paused by the door and watched him. _He’s waiting for me_ , he thought again. A part of him was glad Stiles was still dressed, as it meant Derek got to undress him, study him, savour every inch of his skin to his heart’s content. “Stiles…” Derek marched over to bed and dropped on to his heels. He began to pull the sneakers off Stiles’ feet.

Stile started to shrug his shirt off but Derek pushed Stiles flat on his back on the bed. “Let me do that for you.” 

Stiles smiled. “Okay, sure.”

Derek placed the box of Durex and KY on the bed next to Stiles. He stifled a grin as Stiles eyes flickered over the items as if he had never seen them before.

Slowly, deliberately, Derek tugged on the hem of Stiles’ shirt and pushed it up and off, exposing smooth, pale skin. Stiles sat up onto his elbows, watching Derek at first but then he decided to reach out for him. Derek pulled himself up onto to the bed, hovering over Stiles’ body. Stiles’ hands fumbled with Derek’s belt buckle.

“You first,” Derek said as he closed his hand around Stiles fingers. Derek placed his palm over Stiles’ crotch; he rubbed Stiles’ cock through the denim. Stiles inhaled sharply and dropped his head onto the pillow. Derek slowed the movement of his hand. He didn’t want to make Stiles come. Not yet. Stiles’ zip hissed softly as Derek pulled it down. Stiles lifted his hips to allow Derek to work his jeans off.

Stiles was now naked except for his boxers. He tried to sit up as his hand reached for a blanket to cover himself up.

“It’s okay,” Derek said. “I just want to look at you for a moment.” 

Stiles brows knitted together. “What do you see?”

“I see the blush creeping up your chest. I see the scatter of moles on your face have friends on your chest.”  Derek dipped his head and kissed Stiles on the chest directly above his heart. “I see the bones peaking below your skin.” He ran his hand over Stiles’ ribcage. “I see how your body works.” Derek hands travelled to the dip of Stiles' waist, and he pushed his fingers under the waistband of Stiles' boxers. “And I see how fucking gorgeous you are.” 

Stiles smiled. “No lies…detected.”

 “I see it and I want it.” Derek dragged Stiles’ underwear past his ankles, dropping them on the floor. Derek crawled half on top of Stiles and pressed his lips against Stiles’ neck, outlining the edge of his jaw with a trail of kisses.

Stiles’ fingers dug into Derek’s back. “Why are you still dressed? Clothes come off. Unless you’re planning to fuck me through your jeans.”

Derek grinned and sat up. “Clothes coming off.”

Stiles sat up to watch Derek stripping off his shirt and jeans. “Your eyes are glowing red.”

“It’s an Alpha thing.”  Derek could see his own reflection, clear as day, in the depths of Stiles' eyes. Finally naked, Derek crawled over Stiles’ body. “It happens when I’m angry or when I feel threatened.” He pushed Stiles’ knees apart. “Or when I’m aroused.”

Stile swallowed and his hands clutched the sheets.

Derek studied his face. “Does it freak you out?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“If I concentrate, I can turn it off like a switch.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Ok.”

“Okay.”

Derek's hands encircled Stiles' feet. He dragged Stiles by the ankles to the edge of the bed. His hands crawled up Stiles’ thighs. “You’re shaking.”

Stiles placed his heels flat on the bed. “It’s not me… it’s all you.”

Derek looked at his hands, and there it was, a faint tremor running through his fingers and up his arms like a live wire. _It’s me,_ he thought with surprise. _I’m the one who is nervous_. His hands were visibly trembling. He was acting like a virgin. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to tell Stiles why, but the words shrivelled in his throat and he couldn’t _. Not here, not now_ , he thought. Derek balled up his fingers into fist before flexing them straight. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, pressed his lips against Derek’s throat, and whispered, “What for? I like it that you are so freaked out. I’d be worried if you weren’t.” Stiles' slid his hand down between their bodies, and closed  his fingers around Derek’s cock. “Remind me again, why are we still talking?” And his thumb brushed across the wet head of Derek’s cock. “I thought you wanted to fuck me?” Stiles brought his hands up, his fingers glistened. “Have you ever tasted yourself?”  he asked, all teenage bravado.

Stiles’ eyes never left Derek’s face as he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked Derek’s pre-come off his fingertips. “Mmmmm.” The sound that ripped its way out of Derek’s throat was somewhere between a sob and a moan.  Derek gripped Stiles’ wrist.

“Do you want to find out what you taste like?” Stiles offered his hand to Derek.

Silent as stone, Derek’s eyes flickered between Stiles’ outstretched hand and his face.

“I used to think about you, like this, _all_ the time. I used to wonder what you'd taste like. I'd to wonder what you'd say when you fucked me. Wondering if you’d be vocal and loud or if you would stare at me like you're doing now,” Stiles confessed.  “I used to jerk off in the shower thinking about you every morning.” He brought his hand back down to Derek’s cock. “When you started sleeping in my bed, I knew I could never jerk off in there ever again because you would probably smell it.”

Derek’s mouth closed around Stiles fingertips. _I could only ever like the taste of my own come if it’s on you_ , he thought. He licked the trace of himself on Stiles fingertips. “I taste like tears.”

“You taste salty and dark… like something wild. Do you want to find out what I taste like?”

He pushed Stiles back down on to the bed. “I thought you would never ask.” Derek kissed the inside of Stiles’ thigh, working his way to his cock. He licked around the length then he took the head inside his mouth.

Stiles moaned. He gripped Derek’s head. “Oh God,” he rasped out as he hands balled into fists in Derek’s hair.  “Please…”

Derek smiled around Stiles cock. _Who’s shaking now?_ He thought smugly, as he lifted his eyes to watch. Stiles was a sight to behold. He was flushed all over, like summer peaches. His chest rose and fell as he writhed in pleasure, his eyes tightly closed, his fingers white knuckled. Derek raised his head, and hooked his arms under Stiles' thighs. Derek lifted Stiles’ lower body off the bed. “Stiles, put your legs on my shoulders.”

Stiles eyes were dazed with lust. “What?”

Derek shifted him up to the headboard. “I want you to wrap your legs around my shoulders. I want to see how deep I can take you.”

Stiles swallowed. He dropped his head onto the sheets.  “Okay…”

Derek crawled onto his elbows, as Stiles lifted his legs over his shoulders, before crossing them at the ankles. He took a deep breath as Stiles’ scent covered his face like mist. Stiles smelt like warmth, joy and sunshine rolled into one. Derek closed his eyes as he took Stiles’ cock all the way into his mouth, as deep as his throat would allow.

And Stiles lost his mind. 

A cacophony of _please_ and _oh_ _god_ filled the room as Derek deep throated him.

A series of unintelligible sounds came from him as he begged Derek not to stop. Then he begged him to stop, that it was too much, too good. He cried a little, rocking his hips up and off the bed, fucking into Derek’s mouth.

“I’m going to come… I’m going to come,” he moaned. “Derek, you’re going to make me come.”

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ thighs, to let him know. _Its okay, you can come in my mouth.  I want you to come in my mouth. I want_ _every drop you’ve got to give. I want it. I need it. Every time you touch someone else you will think of me, every time you kiss someone else you will think of me. Every time you fuck someone else you will think of me. I want every lover you will ever have, to be merely a shadow compared to me. You’ll never be satisfied with anyone else, no one will ever make you come as hard, make you feel as good, no one.  I want this moment be branded in your memory forever. I want to ruin you for life._

Stiles gasped as he came, his fingers clamped around Derek’s head in a death grip, surprising Derek with his strength.

“Oh god, Derek.” His shoulders heaved with each intake of breath. “Wow, just wow.” 

Silently, Derek lifted Stiles' legs off his shoulders. He slid up Stiles' body and started to jerk off onto Stiles’ skin.

Stiles watched him for a moment, before he took Derek’s cock in his hand, taking over. Stiles' movements were precise and quick. Derek dropped his head on Stiles’ shoulder, as he rocked his hips into Stiles’ fist. 

“Stiles,” he whispered against Stiles' neck. “God help me, I want to bite you right now.”

Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s cock. “That’s just the pheromones talking. Take a deep breath.”

Derek rocked his hips off the bed. He could feel Stiles’ cock starting to harden again, underneath him. “I really want to bite you. Now.”

Stiles chuckled. “So much for wanting me to stay human.”

“I don’t want to bite you to turn you, I want to bite you to feel connected to you in some way… I don’t know how to describe it.”

Stiles released his grip on Derek’s cock and brought his hand up to cradle Derek’s face. “Oh, you want to nuzzle me… with your teeth?”

Derek frowned. He was so overcome with the urge to put his teeth on Stiles it never occurred to him to think about the manner in which he would go about it.

Stiles exposed his jugular to Derek. “Go for it, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Stiles…”

“Derek, I’m only going to offer it to you once. Going once, going twice…”

Derek put his lips against Stile's neck, and Stiles started to jerk him off at a faster pace. He raked his teeth against Stiles’ neck. Derek pushed his nose against the hollow of bone on Stiles’ collarbone. Derek’s teeth raked against the artery along Stiles neck. Derek pushed his cock hard into Stiles’ hand. He could feel Stiles’ breath hot against his neck. He turned his face and captured Stiles’ lips. Their teeth clashed against each other as they kissed. _I want to ruin you for life_.

The thought detonated him and he came in Stiles’ fist. Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and proceeded to lick away his own come from Stiles’ fingers. _I want to ruin you, like you ruined me._


	17. Chapter 17

The smell of pancakes woke him up. Stiles was blissfully asleep, and completely oblivious to how hungry he was, until the smell of warm pancakes sashayed into his room, under his pillow and into his nostrils. And a nose-brain-stomach connection was made and his stomach growled in protest, forcing him awake.

When he could no longer ignore the blatant rumbling inside his gut, Stiles woke up. He sat up on the bed and looked around. He wasn’t in his room. It was Saturday afternoon. He was still in the middle of nowhere, somewhere north of−

“You’re finally up.” Derek walked into the room. He was already showered and changed, and he carried a tray with pancakes and a pot of coffee and… heaven knows what else. Stiles craned his neck trying to see but he couldn’t make out the contents.

Derek placed the tray at the edge of the bed. “You sleep too much.”

Stiles pulled the blanket up to his chin. “You sleep too little.”

Derek shrugged as he sat down. Stiles glanced down at the tray. “Did you make these?”

“No, I went into town which is about a half a mile from here. They were frozen, I just heated them, that’s all.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows.

Stiles straightened his shoulders and said with a British accent, “The werewolf doth protest too much, methinks.”

The corners of Derek’s lips tugged up in a reluctant smile. “I’m not protesting anything.”

“I can’t believe you did all that while I was asleep. Damn, you’re quiet.”

“Cold weather tends to put humans into a deeper sleep.”

“Where did you hear that?”

Derek shrugged. “It’s just an observation I’ve made.”

Stiles held up his hands as if to count. “Based on one, two, ten, hundred… How many subjects did you have?”

Derek leaned in and kissed him. “One subject.” He pushed his forehead against Stiles', backing him on the bed, as he deepened the kiss. “I had one subject, just one,” he whispered.

The plates on the tray, between their bodies, clinked against each other.

Stiles sighed when he felt the rough brush of Derek’s stubble against his face. There was a faint smell of burnt wood on Derek’s clothes. Stiles felt the familiar stirring in his pants− “Hold that thought,” he groaned and sat up pushing Derek back. “I need to shower and eat first. I’m hungry as hell right now.” Stiles scrambled off the bed. “Where is the bathroom again?”

Derek ran his hand through his hair. “Stiles, it’s in the next room on the left−” He gestured in that direction. “The whole geyser system is run on gas, so if you need warm water you’ll need to light the gas.”

Stiles was almost out the door when he paused, “Of course there’s gas, because there’s no electricity, because we are in the middle of nowhere, right.” _Mountain man… no, mountain wolf_.

 

#### ***

Ten minutes later, after taking a shower in lukewarm water and using his fingers as a makeshift toothbrush, Stiles finally got to eat. By then his pancakes were cold, his toast was flat, and his coffee was bitter. But to him, everything tasted glorious.

“Wow, these are good, I mean like really good,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“Those are heat-and-eat pancakes, you don't have to be a chef to make them.”

Stiles shrugged. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“There’re just pancakes.” Derek sat watching him eat.

Derek had lit a fire in the hearth, which would explain the firewood he had chopped so vigorously the previous day. Stiles sipped the bitter coffee. Derek didn’t take sugar with his coffee and he just assumed Stiles did the same. Stiles needed to talk to him about assuming things. What did his dad used to say _? Assume makes an ass out of you and me_. Stiles eyes wandered around the room. He couldn’t help but notice the creepy bearskin was missing. _Maybe Derek hid it somewhere_ , he thought. “What happened to the grizzly?” he asked.

Derek looked up from the book he was so obviously pretending to read. “What?”

“The creepy bear taxidermy rug that was on the floor. It’s gone.”

“I took it outside and left it there. I thought you didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know you would just throw it out because I said it was creepy.”

Derek was quiet for a moment then he shut the book with a snap. “Stiles, you confuse me, _all the time_.” He sighed heavily. “Do you want me to bring it back?”

Stiles made an exaggerated gesture, as if the matter needed deep thought. He placed his mug carefully down on the tray and asked, “Does it have any sentimental redneck value?”

Derek shook his head.

“Then there’s no reason to rescue it from the cold.”

 

#### ***

Stiles finished his breakfast in silence. He needed to go get his phone and check his messages. Scott had made a point of telling him that he would be calling to check on him during the weekend. And he also needed to call his dad whom he'd told that he'd be spending the weekend at Scott’s house, and Scott being the good friend he was, had promised to back his story up to his dad. But Stiles knew his little lie wouldn’t hold water if he didn’t at least call his dad once or twice during the weekend. There was a chance that his dad would drop by the McCall house to see him, and if that happened he would be in deep trouble−

“What are you thinking about?” Derek broke into his thoughts.

Stiles looked up. “I need to check my phone just in case there any messages from my dad or Scott.”

Derek dug into his pocket, and took out the key to the Camaro. The keys rattled as he placed them on the tray in front of Stiles. “Here, go check in with Scott,” he said, without a hint of emotion.

Without a word, Stiles took the keys and went outside.

When he got back, Derek wasn’t in the room. _Dammit._ There weren’t any bars in his phone. _Trust AT &T to screw me over when I need them the most. I should have gone with Sprint,_ he thought. He wandered around the room lifting and lowering his phone as he tried to find a signal. _Dammit, no signal._ There was a selfish part of him that was relieved that his phone was useless _. That means I don't have to deal with the real world for a little longer_. He still had a day and a half to pretend that the world outside didn’t exist and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

He found Derek in the bedroom, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Stiles crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Bummer, I can’t get any reception on my phone.” He leaned in over Derek and whispered, “No electricity, it’s freezing outside, what in the world are we going to do for the next day and a half?”

Without a word, Derek turned onto his side. The light coming in from the window fell onto his face and his eyes burned like rubies in the sun.


	18. Chapter 18

At first, Derek was content just holding Stiles down, kissing his neck. He was content to just rock against him, his hips barely moving as he thrust against Stiles’ body, the wooden headboard creaking with each movement. He was content to rake his teeth against Stiles’ exposed jugular. He was content to let Stiles pull on his hair.

But that contentment soon turned into growing hunger. Hunger that made Derek’s body heat rise, his senses came alive. Everything around him became brighter, sharper, and louder. He could hear Stiles’ heart running a mile a minute; it pounded in his chest like a caged animal's. And the persistent ache inside him pulsed to its beat.

 

### ***

They kissed like that until Stiles was breathless and the front of his boxers was uncomfortably damp. Derek’s hands wandered between their bodies. He pushed his hands into Stiles’ jeans and began to rub him, over the damp spot. He traced the outline of Stiles’ cock through the fabric and a moan escaped his lips. Derek could sense his discomfort - Stiles was painfully hard. “Let’s get you out of these,” he murmured as he sat back on his heels.

Stiles looked up at him, his forehead covered with a slight sheen of sweat, his lips parted.

Derek slid down Stiles’ body and proceeded to remove his clothes. He peeled them off Stiles’ skin like they offended him. Derek took his time, there was no rush, no urgency in his movement.

 _I have him where I want him_ , Derek thought. Stiles would let him do anything. He knew that for a fact. He looked up to find Stiles watching him.

“What are you thinking?” Stiles asked, a strange smile ghosted the corners of his lips.

“I’m thinking how I could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t stop me.” After all, there was no point in lying when Stiles could see the truth, clear as day, in his eyes.

“Yeah? Define ‘anything.’”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“If ‘anything’ means talking me to death, you’re on the right track.”

Derek pulled Stiles’ boxers down and off. “You know what? You’re too smug for your own good.”

Stiles chuckled and covered his crotch with his hands, as if Derek had never seen him naked before, as if Derek had never touched him there before.

In a heartbeat, Derek was on him, pulling his hands away. Stiles didn’t resist, he let Derek palm him, rubbing his cock with his hand, until Derek’s palm was wet with Stiles’ pre-come. Stiles took a sharp intake of breath as he braced his heels against the bed raising his hips up against Derek’s hands. _I have you exactly where I want you_ , Derek thought.

 

#### ***

With practised ease, Derek reached for Stiles' belt buckle. He undid his fly one-handed, and pushed his body over Stiles’, trapping him between his body and the bed. Stiles' eyes flickered from Derek’s face to his cock, drinking in the sight of him. _You’re so fucking beautiful._

Derek slowed the movement of his hand. He dropped his gaze. “Thanks.”

Stiles blushed when he realised he had said it out loud. He cleared his throat. “You really are.”

Derek kissed him and whispered against his lips, “So are you.”

Stiles smiled, raising his back off the bed, encircling Derek's shoulders with his arms, holding him tight against his chest. He could feel the tight muscles of Derek’s back knotting underneath his skin. Derek’s cock pushed against him.  In the corner of his eye, Stiles could see the box of condoms, still sealed and unused, on the nightstand. He could remember the morning he had driven all the way to Walgreen's to buy them. He could remember how nervous he was as he wandered the aisles, he could remember the faux helpful shop assistant, Stiles frowned. _What was his name again?_ He couldn’t remember. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Stiles traced Derek’s triskele tattoo with his fingertips. “Time slows down when I’m with you.”

He heard the smile in Derek’s voice. “You say that, like it’s a bad thing.”

“If I stay here, will I stay sixteen forever?”

Derek hitched him higher on his thighs so he could drag his pants off. “I’d stay twenty two forever.”

Stiles bit down on his lips and moaned when he felt the velvet heat of Derek’s cock push against his own. He wondered what Derek would feel like inside him, pushing his cock in and out of him. He was dying to find out. Stiles reached over his shoulder for the nightstand. Without a word, he opened the tube of KY. Stiles took Derek’s hand and began to coat his fingers with the cold lube.

Derek rubbed his fingers together and moved his hand under Stiles’ balls. He trailed his fingertip around before he gently pushed it in, his eyes bright red and unblinking as he watched Stiles’ face. The warmth of Derek’s finger and the coolness of the lube mixed together created a contradicting duo of sensation. Stiles gasped.

All of a sudden, Derek froze, his hand stilled, his eyes were wide and uncertain.

Stiles forced his body to relax. “No, it’s good, keep going.” 

When the discomfort subsided, Stiles rested one hand on Derek’s shoulder while the other travelled down between his legs. Stiles pushed his own finger inside to join Derek’s finger.

Together they prepared him.

Derek followed Stiles’ movement, letting him set the pace and direction of the movement of their fingers. It took a while for his body to get accustomed to the burn, but after a while it started to feel good and Stiles began buck up, pushing back against each finger thrust.

Stiles brushed his lips against Derek’s ear. “More,” he whispered, letting the word hang in the air.

Derek took the hint and pushed in a second finger.  Stiles gritted his teeth. He directed Derek’s fingers with his own. Derek followed his lead, matching the movement.

Stiles guided his fingers out. “I’m ready for you.”

Derek opened the box of condoms. He tore the foil packet with his teeth and rolled the latex over his cock, then coated himself with more lube. His bright red eyes never left Stiles’ face.

Stiles turned over, onto all fours, hating how unsteady his knees felt underneath him.

Derek gripped Stiles’ hip. “I need to see your eyes, please turn around, I need to see your eyes while I’m... I need to see your eyes.”

How could he say no to that? Stiles turned over and drew his knees up. “You want to fuck me like this?”

The sound that came from Derek’s throat was a mix of a groan and Stiles’ name. In a heartbeat, he was on top of Stiles, pushing his forehead against Stiles', panting against his neck as Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and he closed his hands around the contours of Derek’s ass.

Stiles held his breath, waiting for Derek to push in.

He didn’t.

Stiles locked his ankles. _I want this, I want this just as much as you,_ he thought. He pushed up against Derek. Stiles’ cock dragged against Derek’s abs leaving a wet trail of pre-come. He could feel the thick head of Derek’s cock barely tracing at his entrance. “Derek…”

Derek lifted his head. Their eyes locked. Derek started to push inside.

Stiles could feel the prickle of tears behind his eyes. Derek was barely in and it _hurt._ He tightened his grip on Derek’s ass and it took everything he had to keep from wincing.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice seemed to come from somewhere far away. 

“Keep going.” Stiles took a deep breath forcing his face to stay neutral. He didn’t want Derek to think he was hurting him. Stiles welcomed the pain. He could feel Derek trembling on top of him, and he could feel how badly Derek wanted to push inside. “Keep going,” he repeated. He could remember the first time they kissed, it had happened on the floor of his living room. He could remember how terrified they both had been−

Derek pushed, in and out.

Stiles gasped and bit his lip.

Slow and deliberate, Derek fucked in and out.

In and out.

Stiles’ hands moved up to Derek shoulders as he held on. He began to thrust up into Derek's cock, riding up into the motion of Derek’s body, fucking him.

In and out, Derek thrust inside him taking him to the edge of unimaginable pleasure. He was so close, so close−

“Stiles, can you wait for me?” Derek’s voice was laboured. “I can go in deeper. Before you come…”

“I can try.” Stiles stilled his hips.

Derek hitched Stiles’ legs around his shoulders, and drew his body back, until just the tip of his cock remained inside Stiles. He thrust slowly back inside, deepening the penetration. He moved into Stiles in long slow controlled thrusts.

Stiles closed his eyes as his hands bunched up the sheets. He could hear himself moaning against Derek’s lips.

“Please, keep your eyes open.”

Stiles eyes flew open. The room seemed so blindingly bright. “I’ve never come with my eyes open−” He didn’t recognise his own voice.

“Please do it for me, just this once−”

Derek thrust inside him again and again.

“Okay−”

“Ok−”

Before they knew what was happening, they both came at the same time.

#### ***

Afterwards, Derek was content to cover Stiles' body with his. He laid on top of Stiles until the sweat cooled on their skin, until their hearts slowed down, and their breathing went back down to normal.

Derek stayed there, still, inside him. He stayed there, still, not moving a muscle.

And Stiles let him.


	19. Chapter 19

Light through shadow, is what Stiles could see through the fan of his eyelashes. He could feel the warm, sleek hardness of Derek’s body pressed against his bare back. Derek’s head rested against Stiles shoulderblades and his hands drew a map of the contours of Stiles’ back.

Stiles broke the morning stillness. “I had a weird dream. I dreamt a werewolf took my virginity.”

“It wasn’t a dream.” He could hear the smile in Derek’s voice.

Stiles turned around to face Derek. “How would you know? Were you there?”

Derek’s eyes darkened. “Any regrets?”

Stiles pushed his face into the pillow. “About what?”

“You’re not going to make this easy?”

He smiled. “Never.”

#### ***

They spent the better part of Sunday morning fucking on Derek’s bed. They fucked like it’s going out of fashion. They fuck until Stiles' thighs are covered in blue and purple bruises, until his lips are bruised and swollen.

“At some point we have to come up for air,” Derek told him, as he licked his way up Stiles’ body.

“This isn’t the reason I brought you here,” Derek insisted, as he pushed his cock torturously slowly inside Stiles.

“Yeah… right.” Stiles snorted as he nibbled Derek’s neck. He would have laughed if he hadn’t been trying so hard to keep from coming.

Sometime on Sunday afternoon, they ran out of condoms.

It was the only reason they finally stopped.

 

#### ***

Lukewarm showers are not so bad when you share them with Derek Hale, Stiles discovered. He realised he also didn’t mind the bitingly cold air that hissed though the wooden shutters as he stepped out of the shower. He didn’t mind that he ran out of clean clothes to wear. He also discovered that Derek was more than happy to let him wear his clothes.

For a guy with tiny closet space, Derek seemed to have an endless supply of clean flannel shirts that were all one size too large for Stiles. “You keep pulling out clothes from an impossible tiny space. Is this like a magic trick?”

“I thought you said you needed clean clothes to wear?” Derek said, as he held out a shirt to him.

“I had clean clothes until some werewolf decided to mess up all my clothes.” The shirt was blue and green plaid, not really his style, but it would do. Stiles snatched the shirt from his grasp.

Derek closed the closet door with the heel of his boot. “Well, it’s not like you didn’t like it.”

“Whether I liked it or not is not the point,” Stiles said, while buttoning up the shirt. “It should be written down, somewhere in Werewolf Etiquette 101. ‘Never use claws to remove clothing especially if owner of said clothing has nothing else to wear’.”

Derek held up his hands. “Ok, I’ll never use my claws to rip your clothes off ever again.”

“Especially, if owner of said clothing can’t go anywhere else for more clothing, since the owner is literally trapped in the middle of nowhere,” Stiles added. He had decided not to ask Derek any questions concerning the cabin. If Derek wanted to fill him in he could do so in his own time.

Derek paused for a moment, as if he was thinking it through. “So if said owner has other clothes somewhere nearby, let’s say in his bedroom, is it okay to use said claws to remove said clothing?”

Stiles tapped his chin. “Ah, that’s an interesting question Mr. Hale. We’ll have to test that theory when we get back to Beacon Hills.”

#### ***

Stiles ate whatever Derek put in front of him. Derek prepared beefsteak, roast potatoes, corn on the cob, fried rice and vegetables. They ate in silence, by the window, watching the snow fall. It looked like a giant feather pillow had exploded in the sky and all the feathers were falling down.

They watched the falling snow until Stiles fell asleep, under a blanket by the fire.

The snow finally halted as the sun sunk low in the horizon, the day ended and a sharp crescent moon peaked behind the clouds in the navy sky.

#### ***

Derek went for a jog. Soon he would have to return to Beacon Hills and face everything he had left behind. _All my problems are still waiting for me_ , he thought. _And_ a _ll my enemies are waiting for me_. He ran deep into the woods until he was out of breath. He ran through the trees, branches cracking and breaking under his Nike Airs. He ran until he reached the edge of the woods and giant Redwoods surrounded him like a cage. But he felt safe, he always felt safe here. There was peace and stillness he found in the woods that he could never find anywhere else.

A series of events in his life led him to become an Alpha of a pack, but deep down inside Derek knew he was a lone wolf. That was who he was, that was who he would always be. _Pack is what you make it,_ Lara had told him _._

Derek climbed on top of a rock and stared at the sky, the woods were alive. It would be dark soon. It was going to be a long drive back to Beacon Hills. _I have to take him back_ , he thought, _I can’t keep him here forever_. They would have to leave before it snowed again, there wasn’t enough salt to keep the snow at bay−

Far in the distance he heard a howl. It wasn’t a wolf or a fox or a coyote, but a human howl. Derek’s ear pricked. It sounded like Stiles.

 _Ahoooooo_.

Derek turned on his heels and raced back to the cabin.

 _Ahoooooo_.

Stiles’ voice came crushing through the trees, breaking the silence of the woods. The howl came again, it echoed through the trees, through the air.

Abruptly, he stopped running. _Stiles is not calling me in distress_ , he realised. There wasn’t any panic, or fear in Stiles’ voice. Stiles was howling in jest.

Stiles was calling out to him.

Derek smiled.

He threw his head back and answered.

_Pack is what you make it._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Welcome to Beacon Hills, the sign said. _I’ve never felt welcome here_ , Derek thought as he drove past it. _Never have, never will_. He glanced at Stiles.

Stiles was lost in thought. His head rested against the window, and his gaze seemed to go right through the glass, far beyond anything before him. Stiles’ eyes were fixed on something only he could see.

“Do I drop you off at home or at Scott’s house?” Derek asked.

“Drop me off at Scott’s. My dad thinks I’m there and my car is there as well.” Stiles paused. “Just leave me a block away.”

“Ok.”

“Okay.”

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

 

#### ***

The black Camaro parked a block away from the McCall house. Stiles gathered his backpack from the back seat, and rummaged through it until he found his iPhone. The phone glowed to life, providing the sole light inside the Camaro. There were fourteen text messages from Scott alongside with four missed calls from him. Stiles read Scott’s text messages in silence. All fourteen messages were all fourteen different variations of one message: Stiles, where are you? Are you okay?

Stiles quickly typed out a reply to Scott: ‘I’m back. Thanks for covering for me.’ The message was short, concise and straight to the point. _It’s the best I can do for now_ , he thought. Stiles glanced at Derek. “Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

Derek stared straight ahead, and shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Stiles put his iPhone on lock screen. It clicked softly and the light went out. “I can stay here with you in the car until morning, if you like.”

“No. If you do that, you’ll be tired in class tomorrow.”

Stiles leaned back in his seat. He didn’t want to leave Derek alone. He thought about it for a moment. “Take me home, I can change there. My dad is probably asleep by now so we can sneak in.” He turned to Derek. “You can spend the night there, like we usually do.”

Derek nodded in the darkness and started the engine.

“Do you still get nightmares?”

Derek didn’t turn to reply. “Sometimes.”

There were so many conversations they needed to have and Stiles never knew when it was the right time to bring their issues into the foreground. He took a deep breath and asked, “Will you ever trust me enough to tell me what happened to you?”

Derek’s jaw set in a rigid line and Stiles could see the sharp panels of his cheekbones harden.

“Stiles, I want to- trust me, I want to, it’s just…”  

A long silence hung between them.

Out of the blue, Stiles started clapping his hand as hard as he could. “Wow, I feel like we have just achieved a breakthrough folks. Everybody, please give Derek Hale, a round of applause. Derek ‘wants to’, you all heard him, he wants to. Should we give him a prize for his effort?”

“Shut up.”

“You win a prize.”

“Shut up.”

“You win _the_ prize.”

“Do I even want to know what the prize is?”

“You get my patience.”

“Only your patience? I think you’ve given me a little more than that.”

“Tell that to my dad. I’m sure he’ll love to hear all about it.”

Derek sighed. “On second thoughts, I’ll take the patience.”

“That’s what I thought.”

 

#### ***

The Beacon Hills County Sheriff car was parked in the driveway. Stiles’ dad was home. Derek killed the engine. “We’ve arrived.”

“You’ve reached your destination,” Stiles muttered.

Derek could hear the barely disguised trepidation in Stiles’ voice. “You can go in, I’ll come up later.” Stiles rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. “If my dad is still awake, he’ll probably want to check me over.”

“Check you over, what does that even mean?”

Stiles smiled and shrugged. He leaned over his seat and kissed Derek. The seat belt strained, limiting the distance in which he could lean.

Derek could taste the M&Ms Stiles had eaten hours earlier. He could still smell the crisp mountain snow on Stiles’ skin. He cradled Stiles’ head, deepening the kiss, sucking Stiles’ lips between his teeth.

Stiles sighed against Derek's lips and pulled back. “I’ll see you later?”

Derek nodded.

Stiles got out of the Camaro and headed inside the house without a backwards glance. Derek watched him walking away. _My life would be so much easier if I’d just let him walk away_ , he thought. Derek leaned back on the seat. _Easier said than done_.

Stiles was already asleep by the time Derek came through the window. Stiles hadn’t bothered to change and was still wearing Derek’s shirt.  Derek sat at the bed, listening to the metronome of Stiles’ heart.

Derek crawled in beside him. Stiles shifted in his sleep, giving Derek room on his side of the bed. Derek rolled over until he lay on his back. _Pack is what you make it._ Laura’s words echoed in his head.

 

#### ***

In the two nights he had spent with Derek, Stiles’ body had become accustomed to the shape and feel of Derek’s body next to his. When Stiles woke up the morning he could feel an unshakable feeling of emptiness. Stiles’ hand reached out. Derek wasn’t there.

Stiles had been so tired, he had passed out the moment his head hit the pillow. He couldn’t remember if Derek had spent the night. He fell asleep with the notion that Derek would join him later. Now his room felt empty. Stiles pushed his face against the pillow. _Why do I feel this way? Get a grip, Stilinski,_ he chided himself. He groaned when his phone buzzed.

It was a text from Scott. _Are you coming to the game tonight?_

 _Dammit!_ How could he forget about the Lacrosse match he had been practising hard for the past few months? In record speed, Stiles typed out a text in reply to Scott.

He was about to go back to sleep, hoping to steal a few minutes of extra rest, when he saw something on Derek’s side of the bed. A new origami wolf. Stiles picked up the paper and carefully unfolded it. He placed the paper flat on the bed, ironing it out with his hand. 

 _I want this to count for something,_ it read.


	21. Chapter 21

They sat side by side, in the quiet locker room, stringing. Stiles and Scott worked the intricate pattern of their mesh in silence. Stiles held his lacrosse stick between his knees. His fingers worked the mesh strings, folding and coiling.

The summer of freshman year Scott had patiently spent hours with him on the field, teaching him everything he knew about lacrosse. Scott had taught him how to cradle, how to pass and how to catch. Together they decided they would join the team and they had spent countless hours under the scotching summer sun, doing line drills, 6v6s and fast breaking. Scott had also taught him how to string his mesh. Together, before a game, they would undo the mesh on their sticks and string them. They would do this regardless if they were going to be playing in a game together. It didn’t matter. It was their ritual. Somewhere down the line, things had changed between them. And they started spending less and less time together.  Stiles would have loved to blame Allison or Isaac or even Derek for the rift that was now in their relationship, but the truth of the matter was the rift between them, had been their sole creation. They became equally responsible for it the day they both stopped trying.

In a few minutes the locker room would be a mad house filled with boys from the lacrosse team. They would be hustling and bustling with excitement for the game. He didn’t feel excited. All he felt was dread burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. Stiles could remember the last game he played. It was during the height of Jackson’s rampage as the Kanima. The game had been chaotic but the team had pulled together and held their own against the opposition, and they had won the game. He could still remember every detail about that night. He could remember the cheerleaders cheering his name, and the look of pride in his dad’s eyes.

Then, after the game, Gerard Argent had kidnapped him. Stiles remembered the field lights going out and someone coming from behind in the dark. The next thing he knew he was being dragged into the Argents' basement. The basement had smelled of sweat and gunpowder and rusted metal. He could remember the looks of fear mirrored in Erica and Boyd’s eyes, Gerard Argent’s sour old-man smell, which was a mix of onions, mothballs, and whiskey−

Stiles grimaced and placed his lacrosse stick down by his feet. _Dwelling on the past is not going to do me any favours,_ he thought.

“So you and Derek are together now?” Scott broke the silence.

There wasn’t a simple yes or no answer, for that question, “Sometimes.” Stiles stared straight ahead. “Why does it feel like you hate me right now?”

“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate Derek, I just hate all the lies.” Scott hands worked quickly on the strings of his mesh.

Stiles frowned. “I never lied to you.” _Not intentionally anyway_.

Scott held up his lacrosse stick and admired his handiwork. His voice was so casual they could have been discussing baseball for all Stiles knew.  “Derek’s an Alpha. We have never seen him with anyone before, and now he’s with you. Do you even know what that means?”

Stiles jumped to his feet. “I can’t do this right now. The one thing I want to know is, are we still friends?” He ran a hand roughly through his hair.

Scott stood up. “We’re more than just friends, Stiles. You’re like a brother to me.” He slammed shut the locker door between them. The sound resonated through the locker room like a warning. “I do what I have to do, because I care about you.”

“Scott, you know what I want? I want you to spend some time with him, find out who he is, and then and only then, you can judge him. I feel like you still blame Derek for what Peter Hale did to you. Derek didn’t turn you but you blame him anyway.” Stiles could feel the suppressed anger threatening to burst out of him “You didn’t want to join Derek’s pack but you did it anyway. You say you did it for me. Well, newsflash, I never asked you to!” Stiles slammed the locker door open, rummaged through it, and pulled out his lacrosse uniform. The uniform fell to the floor.

“Stiles…” Scott bent down and started picking up the uniform.

“We are arguing over a topic, not an issue Scott, our topic is Derek. The real issue is that you don’t trust your Alpha, am I close?”

“I don’t trust him! I want to. But I don’t.”

“I do.”

Scott looked up at Stiles. His eyes were dark.

Wordlessly, Stiles stepped towards Scott, and drew him into a tight hug. 

“He’s supposed to be my Alpha but I don’t trust him,” Scott said quietly. “A Beta is supposed to trust his Alpha, that how it’s supposed to be, and I don’t feel that connection.”  Stiles could hear the despair in his voice.

Out of instinct, he stroked Scott’s back. “Derek is not forcing you to be in his pack. You can bail out any time you want to.”

“Why do you trust him?”

“If you ever took the time to get to know him, you would know why.” He smiled when he heard Scott scoff in protest.

The locker room door opened abruptly and all the guys on the lacrosse team started filling into the locker room.

Stiles and Scott pulled apart.

“Are we still okay?” Scott asked, through a sea of boys that washed around them.

Stiles nodded. “We will always be okay.”

 

 

#### ***

After the first half of the game, the Cyclones were leading twenty over three over the Giants. Every single guy on the team brought his A game. The Cyclones were a solid wall of offence. Scott and Isaac picked up the slack left by Jackson’s absence. It felt good to be in the field playing instead of being on the bench watching.

Scott and Isaac dominated the field with effortless synergy. _Twin flames in our hearts, as we move together you can’t tell us apart,_ Stiles sang with his heart, as he watched Scott and Isaac pass the ball to each other. _Double halves of wholeness_ , _we harmonize in time._

Isaac scored another goal and he and Scott bumped chests.

The whistle rang and the crowd cheered. The second half was over.

“Good job, guys!” Coach Finstock called as they left the field. 

Stiles looked up at the score. Cyclones: 22 points, the Giants: 3.

They had a fifteen-minute break before the next half. Stiles was looking forward to getting some PowerAde and towelling off. He looked around but he couldn’t spot Scott anywhere in the crowd. He shrugged and headed for the bleachers.

As he turned the corner, something grabbed him from behind, closed its hands around his mouth and dragged him under the bleachers.

 

#### ***

Stiles struggled  against the arms holding him in a vice grip. He released a muffled moan, his arms waving.

“Ssshh,” Derek whispered against his ear. “It’s me, stop struggling, I’ll let you go.” He held Stiles tightly against his chest. “Stop struggling.” Derek slowly released him.

Stiles turned around. “What are you doing here?” he gasped, as he squinted in the darkness at Derek.

 “I came to watch the game.” Derek’s eyes glowed red in the darkness.

“And you decided to scare me half to death as well?”

“Sorry.” Derek took a step towards him, and then he paused. “You were with Scott?”

It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I was. We play for the same team.” Stiles leaned against a railing. “Derek, I have to get back on the field in ten minutes, so whatever it is, make it quick.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.” Derek dropped to his knees. His leather jacket strained as he reached to pull down the waistband of Stiles' shorts.

Despite the cold, Stiles felt his face flush hot. “Derek…”

“Yes?” Derek stroked Stiles through the polyester, slowly tracing the outline of Stiles’ cock.

Stiles felt his cock exposed to the cold air but soon Derek’s mouth, hot and wet enveloped him.  “Derek… someone is going to see us.”  Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as he bit down hard on his lip. He looked up the bleachers. There were people sitting above them. If any of them happened to look down they would see their silhouettes.

Derek pulled back. He looked up at Stiles. There was a tease of warm breath on Stiles’ cock as Derek laughed. “Let them see…” He slid the head of Stiles’ cock into his mouth.

Stiles tightened his grip on the railing. He could feel the cold metal digging into his palm. “Derek…” A plea? A protest? He didn’t know anymore.

In response, Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, licked and pulled him deeper. Stiles sucked air through his clenched teeth. His free hand dropped down to Derek’s head, and despite himself, he found himself thrusting into Derek’s mouth, wanting more, begging for more.

And Derek gave him everything. He hummed and moaned around Stiles’ cock, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucked, head bobbing to the rhythm of it. He moaned like there was nowhere else he would rather be except here, on his knees, with Stiles’ cock in his mouth. He sucked Stiles’ cock like he was starving for it, like it was the only−

“Derek…” This time it was a warning.  Stiles closed his eyes and came.

Silently, Derek got up onto his feet, and pulled Stiles into a bruising kiss. Stiles could taste himself, sticky, hot and salty on Derek’s tongue. Derek rocked his whole body against him. Stiles found himself responding to the motion. Soon they were pushing against each other in desperation, as if the layers of clothing between their bodies didn’t exist. Stiles pushed his thigh between Derek’s legs. He could feel Derek’s hard-on straining in his jeans. Derek rocked against Stiles’ thigh, simulating sex.

They fucked fully dressed under the bleachers that were packed full with a crowd. Stiles could hear people talking above his head. He could smell hotdogs and popcorn, all the smells and sounds of game night.

He didn’t care anymore. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders, as they bodies swayed in unison in the darkness.

And the music in his head drowned out all the noise. _Double halves of wholeness, we harmonize in time_.


	22. Chapter 22

The symbol was carved on the heavy wooden doors of the Hale house. Derek reached out and touched it. The symbol had been carved by claws. His hand followed the twisting lines and curves. With only a set pair of claws at his disposal, it would take a long time and hell of a lot of effort for him to carve such an intricate pattern. The werewolf who had carved the symbol must have been very patient.

Out of the corner of his eye, Derek could see Scott and Isaac walking towards the house.

They had come. Good.

 

#### ***

Once the lacrosse game was over, in the veil of darkness of his car, Derek had watched his Betas, waiting for the opportunity for a moment alone with them.

But nothing ever went his way. The moment the game was over Scott had announced they all should go for a pizza and they all jumped into Stiles’ jeep and headed off to Pizza Hut. He had followed them, discreetly, in his Camaro and waited in the car.

When he finally got sick of waiting, he stormed inside the fast food restaurant.

“You two.” He had pointed at Scott and Isaac.

Derek’s eyes skimmed over the faces in the small red booth. Lydia was applying lipgloss. _Who applies lipgloss when they're about to eat pizza?_ Allison was half sitting on Scott’s lap. When he had walked over to the booth, Allison’s hand had shot out, as if reaching for some invisible crossbow to shoot at him. _Will the bad blood between the Hales and Argents ever end_? Derek had wondered when he felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The look in Allison’s eyes was chilling. Derek shifted his gaze to Scott. There was pure defiance in Scott’s eyes. Stiles sat nestled between Isaac and Scott. As Derek spoke, he and Stiles briefly made eye contact over the sea of faces, and something flickered in the depths of Stiles’ eyes but his expression didn't change.

“My house, at midnight.” Derek was already out the door before any of them could reply.

 _Has Derek ever heard of a cell phone_?

 _Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go_ …

Bits and pieces of sounds floated to him as he walked back to his car.

 

#### ***

Derek touched the symbol. “This message is a warning for me, for our pack.” He turned around to face them, “The reason I’m telling you this is because I want you to be careful. There are trespassers in Beacon Hills. Werewolves like me, they are bold and they are cunning−”

“What do they want?” Isaac asked. Slanting forward, his tall frame seem to bend and curve like the edge of a dagger.

 _They want me to join them_ , he thought. “I don’t know yet.” Derek snapped.

“What does the symbol even mean?” Scott demanded.

Derek looked up at the dark sky. The moon was nowhere in sight. “It means mongrel.”

 

#### ***

Aggressive and loud, the banging on the door rang out like an alarm. When Stiles finally got downstairs and swung the door open, he was surprised to see Chris Argent standing on the doorstep.

“Hi Stiles.” Chris Argent gave him his signature shark grin, all teeth and very little mirth.

“You knock like a cop about to burst into a crack house in Skid Row,” Stiles said, unamused.

“May I come in?” That shark grin again.

 _May I come in? The wolf said to the sheep_. “My dad’s not going to like whatever you have to say.” What the hell was Allison’s dad doing at his house? Stiles glanced down at his watch; it was a few minutes past midnight.

“We both know your dad is not home. I have eyes on him right now. He’s filling out paperwork at the station. You and I need to have a talk.”

Stiles stepped aside. “Whatever it is, make it quick.”

Chris Argent stalked inside the living room as he looked around, taking everything in. “You know, ever since my wife passed away, things have been really quiet at the house with just me and Allison.”

He picked up a framed photo of Stiles and his dad. The weekend at Carmel. His mom had taken that photo. He didn’t like the fact Chris Argent was touching it. Stiles wanted to step forward and snatch it from him.

Chris Argent smiled and paced around Stiles. “Do you know the details of her passing?”

Allison had never told him or Scott about what actually happened to her mom. “No,” Stiles said. “I’m sorry about your wife.” And he meant it, no matter what the circumstances; nobody deserved to lose a spouse.

“Her death brought me closer to my daughter. These days, Allison tells me everything.” He placed the photo frame down and looked at Stiles. “Everything.”

The word hung suspended in the air, like a sword.

Stiles shrugged. “So you have a new found appreciation for father-daughter bonds. Great. What’s that got to do with me?”

“My wife,” Chris said with controlled emotion, “died because a wild animal bit her. The bite poisoned her blood, got into her soul, and turned her into something she wasn’t.” Chris Argent’s blue eyes squarely fixed on Stiles. “She had no choice but to take the only way out she knew.” His voice softened. “That’s what happens when you get near a wild animal.”

Stiles felt cold dread rising in his gut. _Derek bit Allison’s mom._ His mouth felt suddenly dry.

“That’s why my family hunt. It's a tradition that’s been handed down from father to son.” His lips twisted into a smile. “In my case, from father to daughter.”

Stiles could hear how carefully Chris Argent chose his words. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Chris Argent put his hands inside his jacket. The fabric strained against the holster on his left hip. “What I’m trying to say is, human-wild-animal bonds never end well. These animals have a way of getting under your skin, and they have power to make you feel things… think things…” He grinned like a great white.

Stiles swallowed. The air was suddenly thick and dark, like blood. _One day, you will see me as I am really am. You will not like what you see._

“When an Alpha fixates on a human, that fixation can only be broken with a wolfsbane bullet.” 

 

#### ***

At some ungodly hour, Derek came into Stiles’ bedroom. He slipped silently into bed, pressing his face against Stiles’ back. “Are you awake?” he whispered, in the dark.

Stiles sighed. He was thinking about his conversation with Allison’s dad. Chris Argent had taken out something from his pocket. He placed it on table beside Stiles. _You’re a smart kid, I’d hate for you to destroy your life over nothing_ , he had said as he walked out. When Stiles turned to the table he found a wolfsbane bud.

Derek touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“Do you want the long version or the short version of the truth?”

Derek’s hand travelled over Stiles’ shoulder and closed around his wrist. “Short.”

“Chris Argent wants you dead.”

Derek chuckled in the dark. His laugh was strange, low and husky. “I wish him luck.”


	23. Chapter 23

At dawn, as the morning light streamed in between the blinds, Derek rose from Stiles’ bed. The night was over and he had outstayed his welcome. He felt Stiles’ hand on his arm, “Stay.”

 _Or maybe not_. “I have to go.”

Stiles buried his face into the pillow, but he didn't loosen his grip. “Stay.”

Derek sighed and climbed back into bed.

Side by side, they lay staring at the ceiling.  In his mind’s eye, Derek could see them; side by side, staring at the ceiling of the Beacon County Sheriff Station. _I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless,_ Matt had said to him. Derek could still remember the rapid thud of Stiles’ heart, the smell 0f his skin−

“Stay.”

“For how long?”

Stiles didn’t answer. He sat up on his elbows, the blankets bunching around him as he leaned towards Derek. Stiles’ hands travelled down to Derek’s crotch. He pushed Derek back onto the bed and straddled him. Stiles undid Derek’s fly. His hands were warm on Derek’s cock.

As Stiles dipped his head down, Derek gripped Stiles’ wrists and lifted Stiles off him. In one quick movement, he flipped Stiles onto his back and crawled on top of him, and kissed him.

When Derek broke the kiss, Stiles rolled onto his side and groaned into his pillow, “I don’t want to go back to Walgreen’s.”

“What?”

“That’s where I got the condoms. I don’t want to go back.”

“Oh.” Derek rolled off Stiles enough to tuck himself back in his jeans and pull his fly up.

“We need condoms. You should buy them.”

“I’ve never bought condoms before.”

Stiles lifted his head off the pillow. “What?”

 _That came out wrong_ , Derek cringed internally _._ “The person I was with before… She was older, she provided them. I never had to worry.”

“You were just happy to be there?”

Derek rolled onto his back. He felt his eyes glow, hot as coals. “Something like that.”

 

#### ***

The bell rang, signalling the end of the period. Stiles glanced at his timetable. “Dude, we have a free period.”

Scott looked up. “Yeah, I know, Allison and I going to hang out at the library.” 

“When you say hang, you mean make out behind the shelves?”

Scott smiled. “You’re more than welcome to hang out with us.”

“Which means− wait, I don’t even want to know what that means. I should probably go somewhere quiet and start my homework.”  Stiles gathered his books. “I’ll see you at practise,” he said.

“Yeah, later.”

 _Great_ , he had forty-five minutes to kill until lunch. _I should dump these books in my locker_ , he thought as he made his way down the hallway.

“Stiles.”

He turned. Derek stood behind him, all black jeans and six feet of conspicuous

“What are you doing here?” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, dragging him into the empty chemistry classroom.  “If Scott sees you, he’ll freak.” Stiles dropped his books on Mr Harris’ desk.

“I heard you telling Scott that you have a free period.”

“You were listening in on us?”

Derek’s eyebrows twitched. “Let me rephrase that, I _overheard_ you telling Scott you have a free period.”

 “I see. With wolf hearing, you can’t help but over hear things.” Stiles took a step towards him.

“I overhear a lot of things.” Derek shrugged

“And you happened to be in the neighbourhood?” He was so close to Derek’s face now. His eyes dropped to Derek’s lips.

“Something like that.”

“And you had to pop in and check if all is well at Beacon Hills High?”

Derek leaned in and kissed him. “Yes, I had to make sure that there are no new Kanimas lurking in the hallways.”

“You have to check in to see if one of Beta’s best friends is still human?”

“Alpha duties never end,” Derek whispered against Stiles' lips. His arm swiped over the desk and everything on the desk - a calculator, a pile of notes, and Stiles’ books - all came crashing onto the floor. Derek slid his hands down to Stiles’ ass. He lifted him and placed him on the desk. “For the good of Beacon Hills, I have to check up on you, to ensure that you are not threatening the peace and tranquillity.”

Stiles snorted, “When has there ever been ‘peace and tranquillity’ in Beacon Hills?”

Derek gave him a look.

“I’ll just shut up now.”

With exaggerated patience, Derek undid Stiles' jeans and dragged them down to his ankles. He put the heel of his palm over Stiles’ crotch, rubbing him over his boxers. Stiles felt his cock start to harden underneath Derek’s touch. He glanced at the door. Anyone could walk in at any minute.

“All looks good here.” Derek announced. “But I still have to make sure… Turn around and bend over the table.”

“You seriously want to fuck me here, in the middle of a school day, on top of the desk of the one teacher that I hate the most?”

Derek thought about it for a moment and said, “Do you have a problem with that?”

Stiles gave a daring smile. “Hell, no."

 

#### ***

Without a word, Stiles slid off the table. His eyes flickered between Derek’s face and the door. A nervous laugh escaped from him as he braced himself over the table.

Derek peeled off Stiles’ boxers and dropped them. He leaned over and licked a wet trail from Stiles’ lower back to his ass. A chair rattled loudly as Derek pulled it next to him. He sat down behind Stiles. In a heartbeat, his hands were on Stiles’ ass as he held the cheeks firmly apart. Some sort of sound of surprise escaped Stiles when Derek’s tongue slipped lower.

A chill ran down Stiles’ spine. “Derek…”

This seemed to encourage Derek even more. “Shhhh,” Derek said. He began to lick between the globes. He pushed his tongue deeper, thrusting in a slow deliberate movement.

"Derek…" Stiles shoved his fist into his mouth, biting onto his knuckles as he tried his best to keep from screaming. Through half-closed eyes, Stiles could see the door. Anyone could walk in, anyone. _What would they see?_ Would they see him with his pants around his ankles with Derek Hale fucking the sense out of him with his tongue? Stiles dropped his head down onto the table and pushed back on Derek’s tongue. He was too far gone to care.

Derek rimmed Stiles harder, his tongue flickering in and out. Before Stiles knew what was happening, something exploded inside him and he came.

Derek got to his feet. He flipped Stiles around and unbuckled his pants. Derek’s fingers were thick and blunt as they pushed inside him. Stiles bit his lips to drown out the sound that threatened to escape.

Without ever taking his eyes off Stiles’ face, Derek reached inside his jacket and took out a condom. He tore it open with his teeth, roughly pulling it on over his cock. He spat on his palm. His eyes burned deep red as he lifted Stiles’ knee, aligning his cock where Stiles was still wet and sensitive.

 

He pushed his cock inside Stiles, thrusting in slowly at first. His hands gripped Stiles’ waist, anchoring the both of them on the table. “Oh god, Stiles.” He moaned, his mouth hungry and open. 

 _When did my life turn into a porno?_ Stiles wondered. He could see white around the edges of his vision; his breath was laboured and shallow. He rested his head on Derek’s shoulder as Derek began to build up the pace.  Stiles realised it was an effort to breathe, to think, when Derek Hale was pounding inside him like the world was about to end−

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles and the table rocked and groaned underneath them, as he began to thrust in deeper and harder into Stiles. His chest heaved up with each thrust−

The table protested with a loud resounding, crack−

Without missing a beat, Derek lifted Stiles off the table before it collapsed into a heap beneath them. He took two long strides to the chalkboard, pressed Stiles up against it and resumed thrusting into him as if nothing had happened.

His fingers dug deep into Stiles’ skin as he buried his face in Stiles’ neck to snuff out the sound that was being wrung out of him.

Stiles felt the warm rush of Derek coming inside him.

Derek froze against Stiles’ body. “Oh shit, oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit.”

Stiles opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

The panic and fear in Derek’s voice was like a sledgehammer to the gut. “Stiles… I think… I think the condom…. the condom broke.”

 

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

The silence was palpable as they sat under the shower spray.  The water poured down on Stiles and Derek, soaking through their clothes. Even though the water was warm, Stiles shivered. He rested his head on his knees. His back was pressed tightly against the wall. 

Derek sat staring straight ahead. His first instinct had been to take Stiles home. They had left Beacon Hills High in the middle of a school day in Derek’s Camaro. Stiles called Scott to cover for him.  Even over the phone, Scott instantly sensed something was amiss but he didn’t press for details. Scott promised to notify the school nurse that Stiles had left the premises because he wasn’t feeling well. Once they arrived home, Stiles went straight for the bathroom and stepped inside the shower enclosure. He turned on all the taps and sat down and Derek had followed him in.

Derek touched Stiles’ arm. “Stiles, I’m so sorry.” _I shouldn’t have done what I did_ , he thought, _I should have known better._

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles said. He raised his head from his arms. “If I turn, it won't be the worst thing in the world.” All trace of colour had left his face and he didn’t seem to be convincing himself of what he was saying even as he said it.

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. I feel really tired but it could be all in my head.”

“Do you want me to call your dad?” The idea of calling Sheriff Stilinski terrified the hell out of him but if Stiles needed his dad, Derek was willing to make the call.

“No, I think… I want to be alone right now.” Stiles stood up, “I need to get out of these clothes.” He stepped out of the shower; his sneakers made a squishing sound as he reached for a towel and started drying his hair.

Derek's mind flashed back to the night he had been attacked in the woods and he had ended up in Stiles shower. _He wants to be alone, should I let him be?_

#### ***

Stiles peeled off his sodden clothes, leaving them in a dirty pile on his bedroom floor. He touched his skin, tracing the hand prints Derek had left on him when they had sex up against a wall, in an empty classroom. If someone had told him six months ago he was capable doing something like that, Stiles would have died laughing. _What the hell was I thinking?_ He hadn’t been thinking, not with his head anyway.

The sex hadn’t been rough by any stretch of the imagination but still, the condom tore. His first thought had been, _I don’t want to be a werewolf_.  How in the world was he going to hide it from his dad? His thoughts wandered to the Argents. He didn’t want them to go after Derek. _What's it going to be like to be part of Derek’s pack… Do I even want to be part of it?  Maybe I’m jumping the gun here_.

Stiles pulled out some dry clean clothes and dressed quickly. What if Derek’s come wasn’t enough to turn him? What if an actual bite was the only way? _Whatever that makes me an Alpha is in my blood, my spit, and my come,_ Derek had told him.  If a kiss was enough to turn him, that would have happened a long time ago. _What if Derek was wrong?_   They had no way of knowing now but to wait and see what would happen.

 _I decided that I'll never turn another human ever again. I screwed up Jackson, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica’s lives. And I can’t do something like that again_ , Derek had told him. Stiles had so many questions and few answers but one thing he knew most of all. _If I turn, Derek is never going to forgive himself._

Derek walked in. His hair was still wet.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself for happened. We can let a few days pass, see what happens,” Stiles said to him.

“I never wanted this for you.” Derek couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Okay, Atlas,” Stiles said. This was not what he needed right now. “Once you’re done carrying the world, I just want to let you know that we don’t know for sure if I’m going to turn.” Stiles could feel the dull pressure of a headache starting to form between his brows

Derek blinked. “Do you want to turn?” He reached for the towel lying on Stiles’ bed. Derek ran the towel briskly through his dark spiky hair.

“If I turn, we’ll definitely have problems.”

Derek looked up. “Like what?”

“I’m _so_ going to be an Alpha.”

A rueful smile ran across Derek’s face. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

 

#### ***

As Stiles was downstairs making himself lunch, Derek thought about calling Doctor Deaton. Deaton was the only person Derek could think of that could help Stiles.  _Maybe I should have him check Stiles out_ , he thought. _I also have to tell him about the Alphas who vandalised my house._ Derek hadn’t seen or heard from them since the night they clawed ‘Mongrel’ on his door.

That message had been for his Betas. Both his Betas would be considered lesser wolves by the purebred Alphas. _Was that the reason they attacked me?_ He didn’t know. _The only thing I know for sure is I must keep Stiles out of it.  S_ ome werewolf packs considered it a sin to seek out a human. _This not the 1600s, the way of the werewolves has changed_ , Derek told himself. Pamuya and Stranger was just a scary bedtime story werewolves tell their young to keep them away from humans _.  It would be better to keep Deaton out of it. He is too close to Scott_.

Whoever they were, it didn’t matter anymore. As soon as the moon was up, he was going hunting. He was going to find them, one way or another.

 

#### ***

The Hale house loomed in the centre of the forest.  Hidden from sight, a large Grey waited and watched. He lay still, his head lowered, his ears pulled back. He had been like that for hours. He rose to his paws, his blood red eyes fixed on the swollen pale moon.

 _Call them_ , the night whispered to him. _Bring them here_.

He howled under the shadow of the moon, calling out to his enemies.

 

#### ***

Like a ghost, the wind screeched in the night. The Alphas unveiled themselves from the woods in their human form. A pair of ordinary boys, dressed in black. They ambled across the edge of the treeline, silhouetted by the moonlight. Derek stood by the front door of the Hale house, watching.  They came to the steps of the house and looked up at him.

Silent snarls contorted their faces.

_Laura stood under a Redwood. The giant tree dwarfed her. Her hands rose up to touch the red bark. “Do you know why wolves can smell fear?” The Redwoods were the strongest and most majestic of trees and they could live for hundreds of years._

_Derek crouched down between the roots that had crept to the surface. We can do it because we can, he wanted to say. But he knew a simple answer like that would never satisfy Laura. “We can’t actually smell it but we can sense it.”_

_As she turned towards him, her cobalt eyes flashed like lightning in the dark._

_She smiled.  “Yes, we can sense it.”_

Derek squared his shoulders and stepped down from the broken wooden stairs. “I already have a pack. I’m not taking any strays at the moment. But you can leave a resume. If a position opens up you guys will be the first to know.”

They smiled in unison, two faces twisted with the same humourless expression. The Alpha on the left was the first to speak. “You joke like your human. His sense of humour has _rubbed_ off on you.”

Derek frowned at that and stepped closer. “This is my territory. I can have whatever is on it.” 

The Alpha on the right spoke. “We are surprised you didn’t bring your mongrels here tonight.”

“My pack has nothing to do with any of this. If you are looking for something here, you need to go through me to get it.”

“Purebred wolves have been dying out for years and you’re busy creating mongrels?”

His uncle had told him about the depleting number of werewolves. Since Peter Hale was a sociopath and a liar, Derek took everything he said with a grain of salt. “I’ve heard the rumours, but what does that have to do with me?”

“You are an Alpha of a measly mongrel pack. Your species is dying out but you’re too busy fucking a human to care?”

 _Wolves have been dying for years._ Derek could feel the rage burn in the pit of his gut. His canines came out. “ _Hunters_ are the reason wolves are dying!” He sneered through clenched teeth

“There is a mongrel hunter killing wolves. We don’t know who he is, or who created him, but we need you to _join us_ to take him down. Come with us tonight. Help us find and kill him.”

 _If Stiles turns, I need to be there._ _I can’t go…_ Derek looked up at the moon. She smiled coldly down on him. “What will happen if I refuse?”

Like a pair of conjoined twins from a nightmare, the Alphas spoke in unison. “Then you better pray that your human stays in that house forever.”


	25. Chapter 25

We're stronger in the places that we've been broken. 

-Ernest Hemingway.

#### PART THREE

The pile of blankets weighed him down like a mountain. Restlessly, Stiles rolled around the bed. During the night, he had broken out into a cold sweat. It beaded around his forehead and his skin was hot and feverish to the touch _._

 _I feel like I’m dying_ , Stiles whispered into the dark.

 _You’re not dying, you’re becoming like me_. Derek’s voice was in his head, as soothing as ice tea on a hot summer’s day.

 _I don’t want to be like you. I want to be… like… us._ His thoughts were scattered and unorganized. _Does that even make any sense to you?_ he asked the Derek in his head. _When I say I want to be like us. I want something far deeper than this shared skin we habit. I want be like us,_ he repeated. There was so much he needed to say, but his thoughts were like leaves in the wind, he could only catch a few at a time. Stiles closed his eyes and forced himself to think. He needed to ask Derek something, what was it? Stiles reached out his hand to grasp at him but Derek wasn’t there.

 _Why did you leave?_ Stiles finally asked. _Why did you leave… me?_ He gestured between their bodies. _Wasn’t this good enough?_

Derek raised his gaze. Stiles could see the outline of his face in the dark. _I never left you._ Derek reached out and touched the spot over Stiles’ chest, right over his heart. _I’m here, Stiles, I’m right here._ Derek pulled the blankets over Stiles’ body _. I’m right here._ Soon his lips were on Stiles’, warm and wet. _Doesn’t this feel real?_ Derek asked silently in the dark. _Doesn’t this feel good enough to be real?_ He sucked on Stiles’ fingers, making them wet with spit. _Yes._ Stiles watched as his clothes melted away like butter in the sun. He pulled his legs up and spread his knees for Derek.

Soon Derek was naked and on top of him, pushing his thick blunt fingers deep inside where Stiles needed them to be. Stiles gasped for air, raising his hips off the bed.

Derek’s lips never moved. _Do you feel that?_

Stiles nodded pushing up into Derek’s hand. _Yes, more._

 _I know I can make you come just like this._ Derek pushed another finger inside.

Stiles closed his hands over Derek’s. _Let’s come together.  Like we did, the first time. You can stay inside me, afterwards._

 _You shouldn’t have let me do that,_ Derek covered Stiles’ body with his own.

_I never felt as close to anyone as did in that moment. Now I crave it. I crave it all the time._

Derek sighed. _I’m a wolf._ His breath was warm like a memory _,_ as he pushed inside Stiles. _When I stay, I stay for life._

Stiles closed his eyes as the pain and pleasure split him into two.  _Stay,_ he whispered, as he came. _Stay._

Stiles woke up with a start. His body glistened with sweat from head to toe. He sat up on the bed. He was alone in his room. On his table top, he could see the origami wolf Scott had given him.

“Derek is gone. Before he left, he asked me to give you this,” Scott had said as he stood on the Stilinski driveway. He still couldn’t enter the house, not without Derek’s permission. _Alphas have the power to mark human dwellings to keep other wolves from entering._

Stiles took the origami wolf with a heavy heart. In the back of his mind he knew something really awful must have happened to keep Derek from delivering the message in person. He must have been desperate to get the message to him to have Scott deliver it given the animosity between them.  “Thanks,” he said. _You have no idea what this means to me_.

Scott studied his face. “Before he left, he released us, me and Isaac. He’s now a lone wolf. An Alpha without a pack, he’ll be weak. Why would he do that?”

He heard Derek’s words. _Pack is what you make it_. Stiles could feel the prick and burn in the back of his eyes. Derek was gone. He had to face the impending change alone. Stiles placed the origami wolf in his pocket. “I don’t know. The thing about Derek is… he internalises everything and hopes the world doesn’t notice.” Stiles frowned. Most of Beacon Hills had made up its mind about ex-murder suspect Derek Hale a long time ago. Derek internalised his fears. _He hopes I don’t notice._

They said their goodbyes in the dark. Scott was visibly shaken by the night’s events, so much so that he didn’t notice the change in Stiles. But that was okay, that was how Stiles wanted things to be for now.

Once in his room, Stiles opened the origami wolf. _One day I’ll come back for you_ , it read.

 

####  *** 

Water dripped from the ceiling of the warehouse. The drops made a soft patting sound when they hit the floor. A copper puddle was beginning to form below the cracks. Derek found the warehouse when he arrived in downtown Chicago. He decided to use it as a temporary hideout. The warehouse was dark and isolated. _Perfect for me_ , Derek mused. Over the years, against Laura’s wishes, he had mastered the art of finding dark uninhabitable places to live in. 

His thoughts wandered to Stiles. _Was he turning? Had he turned?_ Derek wanted to be there for him, be there for it, after all he was responsible. _I should have been more careful_. Stiles had been a virgin after all but he hadn’t cared. Stiles’ virginity had been part of the appeal. Derek loved the fact that he was the first to touch him, the first to fuck him, the first make him come, the first. He couldn’t lie to himself, not about that. 

But something had woken inside him when he was with Stiles. In the back of his mind he knew what it was but it was simpler to ignore all the signs. _I’ve been wrong before_ , Derek reminded himself.

When he left Beacon Hills, he had put his phone on silent and driven away. That had been the easy part. For weeks, he fought the urge to call Stiles. But each time he dialled those ten numbers, he would lose his nerve. _The last thing I want to do is to drag him into the mess I'm in._ Derek put the cell phone in his pocket. _I’ve been wrong before._


	26. Chapter 26

On weekends, the warehouse came alive like a hive. The once empty building filled up with loud music, alcohol, illegal drugs and hundreds of horny bodies.

Red, blue, and purple disco lights danced and blurred like bright supernovas, as the warehouse turned into a nightclub. The music pulsed and thrummed like a swarm of bees. Chicago was alive.

Derek didn’t mind sharing his space; after all it was rent free. He nursed a beer while watching people dance. A few times, he had been approached to dance but Derek had turned down all the requests. His body was tense and knotted with tension. _I’ve done what I came here to do_. Derek closed his eyes. _There’s nothing keeping me here anymore_.

The snow fell on him as he gave chase to the werewolf hunter. _Now I know why they call it the windy city_ , he thought ruefully as he ran against the strong wind. A few yards ahead, the werewolf hunter ran for his life. His fear was thick and tangible; Derek could almost taste it in the chilly night air.  The werewolf was young, male, probably in his twenties; he was newly made. _Not older than a year, judging by his gait_ , Derek thought. The snow crunched underneath his feet as Derek chased him. _Who made him?_ Derek wondered. Did they know he was a hunter? Alphas only turned humans they wanted to possess, humans they wanted to have. Alphas chose humans who would add something to their pack and Alphas rarely abandoned their Betas. _Except me_ , Derek thought, as his thoughts wandered to Scott and Isaac. He had abandoned his Betas in Beacon Hills.

“The reason I called you here tonight is I want to release you both,” Derek had said, as Scott and Isaac walked into the dark dusty hall of the Hale house. 

Derek was still anxious over the conversation he had had with the Alphas. No one was ever going be safe in Beacon Hills, not as long as he lived there. _You better pray that your human stays in that house forever_ , they'd told him. As long Stiles stayed in his house he was safe. But the night would end soon and the Alphas could get to him. Derek had entertained the thought of calling him to say goodbye but he knew Stiles would hear the panic and fear in his voice. Stiles was intuitive. Derek had no choice. He had to leave with the Alphas and do their bidding. _There was no way around this_ , Derek thought, _Stiles is going to hate me forever. But leaving with them is the best thing for everyone._

“Releasing us? What does that even mean?” Scott’s amber eyes flared in the darkness. “Does this have to do with Stiles?” he growled through clenched teeth

Isaac stood silently beside him. His werewolf face looked like a Halloween mask of a possessed ferret.

“I’m releasing you,” Derek repeated with forced patience. “From tonight you are no longer my Betas. You are free to go. I will never ask you to do anything for me or mine. You are no longer bound to me or mine. You will never have to protect me or mine. You are no longer−”

“Derek, wait! Why are you doing this?” Scott demanded.

Derek took an exasperated breath “I thought you didn’t want to be my guard dogs anymore?” Derek pointed to the door. “I know what the Alphas want. I know what they came here for.”

“They want to join our pack?” Isaac asked.

The naiveté of Isaac’s viewpoint almost made Derek want to laugh. “They are like me. They were born wolves. They will only ever run with other purebreds.”

Isaac frowned. “Purebred wolves. Racist much?”

"The hierarchy of power is stronger with purebreds,” Derek told them.

“So does this mean we’re free from you?”

Derek smiled ruefully. “Yes, you’re ‘free’.”

A loud hoot of joy came from Isaac while Scott frowned.

“Isaac, go wait outside. I need to speak to Derek,” Scott said never taking his eyes off Derek.

Isaac’s eyes flickered between Derek and Scott, as if he wanted to protest. Derek turned his blood red glare on Isaac and Isaac scurried toward the door, banging it loudly behind him.

“So what happens now?” Scott asked.

Derek shrugged. “I’m leaving, tonight.”

“Does Stiles know?”

Derek sighed. “There is no time to tell him.”  He couldn’t risk going back to the Stilinski home. “There’s so much going on right now and my priority is to keep everybody safe. And the only way everybody can be safe is if I leave.”

Scott nodded as if he understood. “Will you come back?”

 _Will you come back_? Stiles had asked him the very same question, that first night he had slept at his home, and, what felt like a lifetime later, Derek still had the same answer to that question. “I’m not sure yet,” he told Scott.

Scott nodded.

“I need you to give him something for me.” Derek took out the origami wolf from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “Could you do that?”

For a second, Scott stared at him as if he had grown a pair of horns. Then something softened in his eyes. “I will,” he said. He took the origami wolf from Derek.

Derek took a deep breath. He didn’t want Scott to see him like this. Derek cleared his throat. “Take care of him for me okay? He’s going to need you.  Even if he says he doesn’t, he needs you. Just be there for him. That’s all I ask.”

Scott nodded. After all, that’s the only thing they will ever agree on.

For a moment they stood there awkwardly, watching each other.

The door opened. “Are you guys hugging or something? Because all of sudden it went quiet and I don’t know what to think,” Isaac announced, as he strolled into the room.

“Wait in the car, Isaac!” Derek and Scott shouted in unison.

Isaac held up his arms and walked backwards. “This is me going to the car. Whatever's going on here, I do not want to hear any more.”

Derek cleared his throat. He'd said what he needed to say and done all he needed to do. The only thing left for him to do was leave.

 

#### ***

The werewolf ran on all fours like a dog. His breath was a thin trail of smoke behind him.

Derek grunted in frustration as he got closer and closer to the werewolf.  The werewolf was a pale blur through a fog of red. Derek clenched his hands into fists as he ran; he could feel his claws digging deeply into the flesh of his hands. The pain was sharp and clear like glass.

He had only one goal. Catch the werewolf, find out who made him, and kill him. Simple. _Once it’s done, I can go home_ , he told himself. _I can go home_.  He pounded down the sidewalk. He was so close now; the werewolf was a heartbeat away.  Derek could smell the sweat on him. Derek could almost reach out and tackle him to the ground.

Derek leapt onto the werewolf's back, knocking him onto the ground. The werewolf grunted as they both hit the unyielding sidewalk.

“Who made you?” Derek demanded through clenched teeth. “Who are you? Why are you killing werewolves?”  Derek rolled him on to his back and pinned him down with his knees, bearing down with all his weight.

The werewolf stared up at Derek; his canines were longer and sharper than any werewolf Derek had ever seen. They almost looked like tusks. He stared silently at Derek, not begging, not pleading for his life. There was only dead silence and the cold taste of fear.

 _Whose fear?_ Derek wondered. _His or mine?_ “Your Alpha – give me the name!”

Derek pulled his hands back, revealing his claws. “Tell me who made you!”

The werewolf gasped and shifted underneath him, to reveal the kid underneath the face of a beast.

He was young, probably even younger than Stiles.

Derek hesitated and retracted his claws.

The boy smiled up at him then he dug his claws into Derek’s thighs. Maybe it was the trick of the light. The kid looked like… Kate.

Derek growled deep into his throat. The sound rumbled and vibrated through his body like rolling thunder.

And he began to shift into his full Alpha form.

 

#### ***

The wolf held his victim down. He bared his canines in a silent snarl.

 _Rip his throat out_ , the night whispered to him.  The Grey opened his jaw wide and closed it around the boy’s throat. The boy struggled underneath the animal; he screamed through a red mouth. The wolf’s mouth filled with the boy’s blood. He tasted so young. He tasted like prey.

The boy gargled air through the gaping red hole that use to be his throat. He shook underneath the animal as the colour drained from his face and then he went limp.

Like a dead thing.

The wolf sniffed the boy’s face. His skin was still warm. He wanted to lick the dead boy's face. _No!_ The night told him. _He is not yours_!

Confusion clouded the wolf’s mind. The boy was just prey.

The wolf jumped off the dead boy’s body and stared up to the night sky.

 _Find him_ , the night whispered. _Find him. Find him. Find him. Take his heart. Take his heart_ , the night sang to him. _Take his heart_.

The wolf howled into the night sky.

 

#### ***

Derek opened his eyes. There was no way to take back what he did. His hands tightened around his glass of beer and the glass cracked.

Derek wiped his hand absently as he scanned the sea of dancing bodies. Most of the people danced like mental patients trying to get out of their straitjackets. _Idiots,_ Derek thought. Amongst the crowd, a couple caught his eye. They danced sensually against the beat of noise. The boys’ bodies were pressed tightly together as they moved together; they swayed as though they were moving in an unseen wind.

Derek caught a glimpse of one of the boy’s faces.

It was Stiles.

Stiles was dancing with some strange guy.

Derek pushed through the sea of bodies as he made his way to the dance floor. _Did he follow me here to Chicago?_ He seized Stiles by the shoulders. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Derek shouted.

The boy turned around.

_It wasn’t Stiles._

Derek blinked. “I thought you were someone else--”

“Who is this? Who is this guy?” Not-Stiles' partner demanded.

“Dude, what’s wrong with your eyes? Your eyes are freaky… red,” the boy who Derek thought was Stiles asked.

Derek heard the alarm in the boy’s voice. He took a step back.  “I thought… I thought you were someone else,” he repeated. A couple of people had stopped dancing and they were now all staring at him.

Somebody shouted, “Lay off the drugs!” 

Derek turned his back and headed for the door.  He needed to get out. He needed to be somewhere far away from people. He ran for the door and left the din behind him. He pushed the doors open as the cold night air kissed his skin. _I survived, you survived, then we survived. Surely that must count for something?_ Laura questioned him in the dark.

_You call this surviving?_

The snow fell on him like frozen tears.


	27. Chapter 27

It was January; the cold unkind weather had not relented. The graveyard was grey and bleak. Dead leaves covered the ground like a sad brown blanket. Stiles kicked the leaves. There was mud underneath; the wet leaves clung to his sneakers. He cursed under his breath and leapt over the patch of mud. A part of him had always hated it here. The graveyard was his least favourite place on earth. But the place drew him like a vortex. And every now and then Stiles would find himself at his mother’s grave, sitting alone by the tombstone. Sometimes he spoke to her; he would pretend she could hear him. ‘In loving memory of Rose Stilinski,' the tombstone read. 'Wife, mother, sister, and daughter. Only angels sing you to sleep.’

He smiled, blinking through a blurred salt sting. “Damn it, Dad. Did you have to bury her in a place like this _?_ ” Stiles paused and took a deep breath. In a bad impression of Ned Stark, he replied to himself. “She was a Stilinski of Beacon Hills. This is where she belongs.”

There was very little that he could remember about his mom’s funeral. Most of the memories he had of that day were faded and grey and elusive as smoke. Stiles crouched by the grave as he placed a bunch of white lilies by the tombstone. “I know it’s been a while since I have been here-” he stopped and drew in a deep breath. “There are just some things I need to talk about - there are so many things I can’t tell Dad.” Stiles stood up and stuffed his cold hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie. “Well Mom, I’m still human… there was this weird period of time when I thought I was going to turn into a werewolf. Well, I was lucky it didn’t happen.” _I feel like I dodged a bullet,_ he found himself thinking _. Even though there’s a part of me that wishes Derek had turned me, there is also a part me that wants to be like Scott._ Lately Scott had been strangely attentive and started spending less and less time with Allison and more time with him.

As the days crawled by, Stiles had found himself staring at his own reflection, looking for signs that he was turning. His jaw began to hurt after he had spent so much time widening it to check his teeth. Yet nothing happened, absolutely nothing. When a week had gone by and still nothing, Stiles was relieved. _I didn’t turn into a werewolf_ , he thought. The full moon came and went without a hitch _. I am still me_. But something was different. _Physically I’m still 100% human but something has changed_. It was a notion that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Ever since he had been exposed to Derek’s come, Stiles started having strange, intense dreams. _These days my dreams seem to always involve three things: the dark creepy woods, wolves, and Derek_.

In his dreams he was always running, as a pack of wolves chased him. He also dreamt about Derek. In his dreams, he and Derek were having sex in the woods. He felt Derek ripping his clothes off like paper. Derek’s claws digging through his clothes. _Fire keeps us apart._ Derek left a trail of black blood and mud on his skin. _Water will always bring us together_ , Derek assures Stiles, in his dreams. Stiles felt the rocks digging into his skin; the cold night air brush his skin, and he would feel the pain and pleasure as Derek thrust inside him.

He would wake up with the taste of blood and dirt in his mouth. He would wake up feverish and hot, his skin covered with goose bumps, his sheets were wet with sweat and come, and the memories of the dream still lingering on his skin. Afterwards Stiles would jerk off, he would roll on to his stomach pushing his cock into his fist, whispering Derek’s name in the dark, hating every humiliating second of it. He would bite on his white cotton pillow trying his best to shuffle out those pathetic little sounds he made.

And it happened every single night.

Stiles had asked his dad to take him to the doctor for a physical. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” the doctor had told him, a look of sympathy lighting up her grey eyes. "There is absolutely nothing wrong,” she insisted.

 _Then why do I keep having these weird dreams_? He wanted to ask her. But the words died in his throat before he could even let them out.

He wondered about Derek’s nightmares. _Are they as vivid and intense as my dreams?_ A month had gone by and Stiles hadn’t seen or heard from him. _I don’t know where he is_. Stiles stared out at the yard. _I don’t know why he up and left without even saying goodbye. Without a ‘Gee, Stiles see you later.’ I can’t even talk to Scott about this,_ Stiles swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. _It’s not like I care anyway._ “I feel so alone right now,” he said out loud. _Fuck, what’s wrong with me?_ Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket. He still had Derek’s number. _Will he even pick up if I call him?_ Stiles wondered. Without thinking, he dialled Derek’s number. The dial tone rang and rang. After a while, Stiles hung up, and sighed in frustration. _I need answers_ , _I need to know why he left and I’m not going to stop until I find out._

Stiles stared down at his mother’s grave. _What would you think if you could see me now?_

As he drove home, the phone beeped. It was a text from Derek _._

 _I miss you too,_ it read.

Stiles read the message over and over again. _If I can trace this… I can find you_. He smiled. “Gotcha.”


	28. Chapter 28

Stiles spent hours on the internet trying to figure out a way to trace the source and location of Derek’s phone. Since Derek still had his old cell phone on him and it was still on, wherever he was, it was a matter of time before Stiles would find him. There were literally thousands of websites willing to help him, for a price. _This is taking too long_ , he thought _, I need to find someone who knows this kind of stuff. I literally need The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_. The only person he knew who could be his Lisbeth Salander, was Danny.

Danny Mahealani was awesome at computers. He knew his way around technology. He knew where to get software cracks and video games, and he knew how to trace texts.

Between classes, Stiles cornered Danny in the hallway. “Danny hey, how’re you doing?” he asked as he tried to put his arm around Danny as people pushed past them.

Danny gave him a side eye. “What do you want, Stiles?” he asked. Suspicion darkened his eyes as he shook Stiles’ arm off his shoulder.

“Hey, I can’t even say hi to a fellow teammate without you assuming I want something?” Stiles had to raise his voice above the thrum of students.

“The only time you ever talk to me is when you want something.”

Stiles frowned. “I talk you all the time.” He placed his hand back on Danny’s shoulder.

“Give me one good example of such a time.” Danny shrugged off Stiles’ hand again.

“Hey, remember the time… Wait… Okay, maybe I do… But it’s always for a good cause.” Danny was right. Stiles couldn’t think of a time when he talked to Danny and he didn’t have an ulterior motive. “Okay, so I’m a crappy friend.” Stile raised his arms. “Sue me.” The crowd in the hallway was beginning to thin out as students went to their classes.

Danny stood still and studied him for a moment. “Stiles, we’re not friends,” he said, frowning.

For some unknown reason, Danny’s word stung him. “Well Danny, I always thought of you as my friend.” Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really need your help and it’s really important. I don’t what else to say to you to get you to help me out.”

The hallway was now completely clear. Only Stiles and Danny remained.

Nothing changed in Danny’s eyes. “Poor little white boy, the world is not falling all over itself to serve your needs,” he said.

Stiles sighed; this was not how he wanted this conversation to go. “Danny, I’m sorry that sometimes I’m a complete jerk! I _know_ that, I can _admit_ that! Your best friend was the biggest tool in the whole school. Jackson, remember him?”

Danny‘s eyes lit up. “He may have been a jerk to you but he was never a jerk to me. Ever. You didn’t even know him, I mean like, really know him. Everyone saw the part of Jackson they wanted to see and they never stayed long enough to see anything else.”

Stiles smiled at the thought of Jackson having a secret sensitive side that no else knew about, except Danny and maybe Lydia. _Yeah, I’m sure Jackson cries a river whenever somebody scratches his Porsche_. His thoughts wandered to his best friend. _Scott doesn’t know Derek either. He thinks Derek is some creepy tool._ “Look Danny, I wasn’t trashing Jackson or anything. All I’m saying is Jackson wasn’t a nice person to me or to anyone else that I knew.”

Danny sighed, “Okay, Stiles, what do you need?”

Stiles grinned. _Let it never be said that Danny Mahealani isn’t an awesome human being._ “I need you to help me trace a text.”

 

#### ***

Danny downloaded an app, called _MyiSleuth_. He knew the password to the principal office’s WiFi and used it to get the app from a dodgy looking bright pink and black Russian website.

“You can read Russian?”

“No, but Google Translate can.”

“Right.” Stiles smiled sheepishly at him, “Wait, how do you even know the password to the principal’s WiFi?”

Danny gave him a look.

“Okay, just forget I asked.”

Stiles and Danny crouched down in the hallway, as Danny demonstrated the ins and out of the app.

“Okay, all numbers have areas codes attached to them but cell phones use towers that are connected to satellites,” Danny said to Stiles. “When a text or call is sent from a cell phone, a signal is sent to the nearest tower and a signal is also sent to the receiver’s phone.” Danny drew a spider diagram on the back of his legal pad to demonstrate the signal process. “I can’t trace a text that’s been received before the software was installed. You need to get the text sent to you again by the same number. That way you can trace the nearest tower it was sent from. The app will send you back a binary code and unscramble the data, then the GPRS will bounce back to the tower and pick up a signal, and you will receive the GPRS settings of the person who sent the message on Google Maps. As long as the sender keeps their phone on, you should be able to track them.”

 _I must get Derek to text me again_ , Stiles thought as he leaned over Danny’s shoulder. _Now, how do I do that? “_ Thanks, Danny. You’re a genius. If you're ever in the market for a CFO, you should definitely call me. I can totally be the Eduardo to your Mark and I know you will not screw me over, right?” Stiles smiled and said, “Because if you ever do, you better lawyer up asshole because I’m not coming back for 30%… I’m coming back for _everything_.”

Danny stood up, his eyebrows knitted together, as he closed the legal pad.

“You know what? When you frown at me like that, you kind of remind me of my cousin Miguel. He’s totally a frowner, in fact he frowns at almost everything I say.”

“I wonder why that is?” Danny asked.

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

Danny raised an eyebrow and handed the phone back to Stiles.

“Thanks Danny, I mean like… Seriously, thanks.”

“What are friends for?”

Stiles beamed.

“Stiles?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t look like a laptop breaking kind of guy and I’d never screw over my CFO.”


	29. Chapter 29

The enormous boat rolled in the wind as it strained against its restraints. Its giant white sails flapped wildly. _The Salty Dog_ was her name. She was restored to perfection, painted navy and white. Whoever owned her truly loved her.

After the incident at the warehouse, Derek moved to the docks. He knew he could never go back there. _Back to square one_ , he realised, as he wandered around the city. Being around people was stressful. He needed to find a new place that was away from the city’s hustle and bustle. Somehow he had ended up at the docks. 

It was easy to slip into the ships. Derek had chosen an empty cabin below deck to reside in. The docks were quiet. At night, he could sit on the wooden hatches of the cargo holds and listen to the sea.

Stiles had called him, a day ago. It had taken everything to let the phone ring and ring until it stopped. Once Stiles had given up, Derek sent him a text. _I’m coming back_ ; he wanted to say. _But not right now_. A part of him knew it was selfish to give Stiles hope like that and then to leave him dangling. _He isn’t going to put his life on hold for me like that. It’d be selfish to even ask_.

A day later, Stiles texted him again: _Where are you_?

Without thinking, Derek had texted back. _Far away_. He had stayed up all night waiting for more questions from Stiles but none had come.

 _Did he get the answer he was looking for?_ Derek wondered, as he pulled up the collar of his leather jacket. _I should go back to the mountains. At least I could be safe there_. But that place was now woven with memories of Stiles. _Or_ _I could go back to Beacon Hills and pretend nothing happened._ Derek leaned against the cargo hold of _The Salty Dog_. He had killed the werewolf and taken care of the Alphas. Derek looked down at his hands.   _I’ve killed before. What difference does it make now?_ He and Laura had encountered hunters at times, and those encounters usually ended in blood. _That was before Stiles_ , he reflected. _I could do it before. Nothing has changed._ He had killed Peter. _But that son of a bitch had to come back from the dead_. His uncle was probably rotting somewhere alone. _I don’t want to become like Peter._ If he stayed here it would be a matter of time before Derek turned into the one person he hated the most _._

 _I need to go back. I need to go back tonight_. Somehow, along the way, the place he’d been running from most of his life had become the one place he needed to go. 

#### ***

The app worked like a charm. Stiles knew where Derek was. A few times he considered texting Derek and letting him know. _Hey, I know where you are and I’m coming after you_.

His dad had given him an emergency credit card. Stiles had never used it before until now. He had bought himself an one-way ticket to Chicago-- that’s where the application had indicated Derek’s location to be. But there were more than a few holes in his plan. Firstly, he didn’t know how he would even find Derek. _Maybe I can text him and say_ : _Hey, I just landed in a city where I don't know anyone and I haven't got a clue how to go home. Come meet me_?  

His dad thought he was sleeping over at Scott’s-- again. But Stiles was actually en route to _−_

“Fasten your seat belts. The flight will land in fifteen minutes.”

Stiles leaned his head back against his seat and closed his eyes. It was just a matter of time before he'd see Derek again.

  _No_ , Stiles decided.  _Too dramatic_.

 

#### ***

As Derek stuffed his remaining clothes into a duffle bag, his phone vibrated in his pocket. _I’m in Chicago. Come meet me?_ He frowned at the message and dialled Stiles’ number; the phone rang for a few seconds before Stiles picked up.

“Stiles, where are you?”

“I’m in Chicago.”

“Chicago?”

“We need to talk−”

“Stiles, tell me _exactly_ where you are.”

 

#### ***

The airport was crowded. Derek made his way through the sea of people to where Stiles sat in a corner of the main lounge.

As if he could sense Derek’s eyes on him, Stiles looked up and jumped to his feet. “Derek−”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, neither should you.”

 _I don’t want to play this game. Not here, not now._ He wanted to touch Stiles, to move closer to him, but he couldn’t. _Too many people, too many eyes_ , he realised. _It just wouldn’t look right._ They stared at each other, neither daring to move.

Derek finally broke the silence. “On my way here, I booked a flight for you, back to California.”

Stiles blinked rapidly. “I’m not leaving without answers.”

Derek let out an exasperated sigh. “Let me rephrase that. On the way over here I booked a flight for the both of us back to California.” 

#### ***

The airplane bathroom was tiny; it barely fitted two tall guys. Stiles and Derek had to press tightly against each other. There was hardly any room for their arms and elbows as they kissed in the confined space.

“Did you see the flight attendant’s face?” Stiles muffled his laughter against Derek’s neck, “She thinks you dragged me in here, to statutorily rape me.”

“In that case, I don’t want to make a liar out of her,” Derek whispered.

They kissed feverishly in the florescent-lit box.

“I missed this.” Stiles murmured as he tightened his grip on Derek’s shoulders. He rocked against Derek, hard and eager.

Derek rubbed his hands over Stiles’ jeans, stroking him through the denim. He wanted to go down on him, but there wasn’t enough room to drop to his knees. Derek settled for jerking him off. He unzipped Stiles’ jeans and slipped his hand inside Stiles’ boxers.

“Take your cock out,” Stiles urged him. “I want to touch you.”

How could he say no to that? Derek nodded against him and unbuckled his pants. He gasped when Stiles closed his hand tightly around him.

They stroked each other, trying to make as little sound as possible. Stiles pushed into Derek’s hand as Derek pushed into his. They kissed, teeth and lips scraping against each other.

The air crackled with static electricity. Derek gripped Stiles' shoulder and held him still as he rode out his own orgasm.

“I missed you,” Stiles said, against Derek’s lips, as he came. “I missed you so fucking much.”


	30. Chapter 30

In the early hours of the morning, the taxi rolled quietly through the streets. Stiles could see the sharp, grey skyline of the city buildings.

“You can drop us off in town,” Derek said to the driver.

The driver grunted an acknowledgement.

The man was bald as a golf ball with a round pale benevolent face. _If you were to splice Lord Varys and Forever Alone, you would get this guy_. “We are not going back to that creepy house in the woods, are we?” Stiles asked.

Derek gave him a side eye; “I need to get my car from the garage storage. I left it in the city.”

Stiles nodded and slumped back in his seat. He was exhausted and he was dying to go home and get some sleep. The flight had drained all his energy. _Who knew sitting down for three hours and doing nothing could be so tiring?_ His back was stiff and cramped. He stretched out a bit and glanced at Derek in the dim light. Derek stared straight ahead with his hand on the duffle bag on his lap. Stiles wondered what was inside it. It was too small to contain any clothes. He wondered what Derek had taken along with him when he had left Beacon Hills.

Derek glanced at him. “Are you tired?”

Stiles swallowed a yawn. “No.”

Derek’s voice dropped. “I can book a hotel room for you if you need to sleep.” He glanced at the driver, who was pretending not to be listening in.

 _I want to sleep where you are_ , Stiles wanted to say. He shook his head. “I’m not tired.” _Quit treating me like a child._ He brushed his knuckles lightly over Derek’s hand. Derek shifted but he didn’t pull away.

The driver watched them via the review mirror. But the duffle bag on Derek’s lap hid their hands from the driver’s prying eyes.

“Ok,” Derek finally said.

Stiles closed his fingers around Derek’s wrist. “Okay.”

“You’re still you– I mean, you didn’t turn.” Derek’s jaw clenched.

“No.” _The purple werewolf in the room,_ Stiles mused. He couldn’t tell if Derek was happy or upset that Stiles hadn't turned. Throughout the flight he had wondered when Derek would bring that up. The moment they met at the airport, Derek must have known that he was still human without needing to ask. He had super werewolf senses, after all. When Derek had dragged him into the bathroom, Stiles had assumed he wanted to talk about it. Instead they'd fooled around as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn’t spent a two months apart. As if Derek hadn’t disappeared on him, without a word, without a goodbye.

 _One day I’ll come back for you_ , Derek had written.

 _But you didn’t come back, I had to go and find you_. Stiles had spent too many pointless weeks angry at Derek. But when he finally saw Derek at the crowded airport, he couldn’t remember why he was angry with Derek in the first place. _But then again, he’s always had that effect on me_ , Stiles realised. _One moment I’m so angry, I can’t even think straight, the next I’m in my room screaming into a pillow because I miss him._

 _A few weeks feels like a lifetime when you're sixteen_ , Ms Morrell had told him during a counselling session. Stiles had begun taking counselling classes with her to talk about his dreams. After all, there was no one else he could talk to.

 _The nightmares you're having. Maybe talking about it will help,_ he had said to Derek, almost a lifetime ago. Stiles would have been a hypocrite if he didn’t take his own advice. So he had signed himself up for counselling. A few times, he had bumped into Lydia, they had both awkwardly acknowledged each other but neither had asked what the other was doing there. That suited Stiles perfectly fine. He knew Ms Morrell could never repeat what he said to her in her office.

Stiles had told her about Derek. _Sometimes when I wake up and he’s not there… I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest._ He had omitted Derek’s name from the conversations, referring to him only as ‘this guy.’ Stiles had even told Ms Morrell about the werewolves, the Kanima, and Gerald Argent. Maybe she thought he was crazy, maybe she thought he was making it all up to get attention, or maybe she thought he was on drugs. Who knew? Stiles sure didn’t. Ms Morrell, ever the professional, hadn’t even raised an eyebrow. She had listened to Stiles, her lips pursed, and never revealed a single trace of surprise or judgement.

_Stiles, it’s natural for you to feel that way. He’s the first person you have ever been with. He’s a grown man; he shouldn’t be having sex with you in the first place. You have to accept he is not coming back−_

“Stiles, I’m glad you’re still… you.” Derek’s voice broke into his reverie.

Stiles closed his eyes as he absorbed Derek’s voice, trying to decipher any emotion hidden within it. _You don’t sound glad,_ he thought. Derek was a master at hiding his emotions. _Maybe that’s what a glad Derek Hale sounds like._ Stiles opened his eyes, “Derek, don’t ever disappear on me again.”

Derek turned to face him. His eyes were the dying remnants of a forest fire. “I’m here.” Derek’s voice was hoarse, repressed with emotion. “I’m not going to disappear.”

In the front seat, the taxi driver snorted.

 

#### ***

A thin film of dust flew into the air and there was a swish as Derek pulled the car cover off the Camaro. Derek smiled as he inspected the car. “God, I’m so happy to see you.” He chuckled as he ran his hand over the sleek body of the car.

Stiles rolled his eyes and dropped Derek’s duffle bag on the dusty garage floor. “Should I give you two a moment alone?”

Derek smiled. He dug into his pockets for the car keys. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Stiles grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

They drove around the empty streets. The sun streaked the buildings until they gleamed like glass. Stiles watched through heavy lids. He watched the light dance off the skyscrapers until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and he slipped into a deep dreamless sleep.


	31. Chapter 31

They stood side by side, rummaging through their lockers. Homeroom was going to be in fifteen minutes and Stiles wanted to talk to Scott before they went their separate ways. It was better to get things out in the open.

“Derek’s back.” Stiles put his backpack on the floor and glanced over at Scott. “I thought you should know, I mean because of the pack and everything.”

“I know.”  Scott didn’t bother to turn to him.

Stiles frowned. “How do you know that? Did he call you?”

“Dude.” Scott turned and wiggled his finger at Stiles. “His stench is, like, all over you.”

“Oh, right.”  Derek had driven him home in the early hours of the morning. Stiles had been so tired he'd gone straight to bed. He had slept in that morning to grab some extra minutes of sleep. He skipped breakfast and a shower to make up for the lost time.  _That was a bad idea_. He wondered what he must smell like. By the way Scott could barely look at him. Stiles had a pretty good idea. _I smell like come… like Derek’s come._ It should have grossed him out but it didn’t. _Note to self: to keep werewolf diplomacy_ , _always shower in between werewolves−_

“Did Derek tell you why he dumped me and Isaac?”

Stiles closed his locker. “Derek didn’t tell me anything.” Stiles frowned. _He never tells me anything_. In his heart, Stiles still held the hope that one day he would be able to take down the walls Derek had built between them.

 _Stiles, people put up walls for a reason. When you start to tear them down you must be prepared for what is waiting for you on the other side_ , Ms Morrell had said to him.

 _It’s not my place to push him_. He heard Scott sigh as he closed his locker with a loud click. Stiles turned.

“You and Derek, where is this thing going?”

“Is it supposed to go somewhere, Dr Phil?”  _I’m not the long suffering boyfriend or something, thank you very much._

“You guys seem to be heading towards different poles and you don’t even realise it. But one way or the other it will end and Derek will end up alone.”

Stiles tried to keep his voice even. “You think I’m using him?”

“No, I think you’re using each other.” 

#### ***

The day went on as usual. Stiles’ dad showed up at school to inquire about some missing kid. Harris was still a dick and Coach tried to kill them all during practice.

All in all, it was about as normal as things ever got at Beacon Hills High.

“Run, run, run! Balinski, I’ve seen old ladies at the YMCA with hip replacements run faster than that!” As Coach shouted insults from the bleachers, his hair stood up on its ends. He looked like a mad scientist.

 _And I’m one of his failed experiment_ s. Stiles groaned and dug his heels into the ground as he ran. He could feel the muscles in his legs beginning to twitch and burn. He looked up  and saw Scott and Isaac leading the line.  _Eff my life._ He raced after them.

He heard Lydia and Allison cheering in the bleachers as he ran by. Stiles turned to wave to them. He tripped on a cone and fell face first on to the field. _Seriously, eff my life_ , Stiles thought as he blacked out. 

#### ***

_A fan of white dipped in black, followed by others of its kind, the seagulls flew overhead, beating their wings against the wind as they went. Some sailed silently overheard like bird shaped kites under the bright summer sun._

_“Dad, look at all the birds!”_

_“Stiles, they're called seagulls.” His dad sat on the sand and watched him._

_“Sea… gulls… there's so many of them!” Stiles kicked off his flip-flops and raced to the surf. He tried to catch the birds but they all quaked and flew higher in the air. He turned around. “Mom, help me catch one. I want one!”_

_His mom was walking down the beach, her long summer dress billowed around her ankles in the wind. A giant sun hat sat on her head like an umbrella. “You’re not supposed to catch them!” Stiles could hear her laughing as she snapped photos._

_“Dad?” He really wanted one._

_“Sorry, bud, I’m with your mother on this one. Do you want icecream instead?”_

_Stiles considered it for a moment. Icecream was much better than some bird. The birds were probably smelly anyway. He grinned. “Yes!” Stiles sang._

_“Wait, before you race off and cover him with chocolate stains, I need a photo of my boys.”  His mom tossed her hair over her shoulders and crouched on the sand. “Say cheese!”_

_“Chocolate, chocolate!”  Stiles sang out, as his dad grabbed him and tossed him into the air. He spread his arms into the air and for a moment he was flying. He squinted in the sun. The world was perfect._

#### ***

When Stiles came around, he had an ice pack pressed against his head. He lay on a stretcher next to the track field. An array of concerned faces stared at him, backlit by the unkind glare of the sun.

Stiles frowned when he realised that the whole track team stood over him.

“Are you okay?” the school nurse asked.

Stiles groaned as he sat up. His head was pounding. “What happened?”

“You tripped on the field and hit your head.” Scott steadied Stiles with a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you know what year it is? Do you know who I am?” Coach Finstock demanded as he leaned over Stiles.

Stiles frowned. Why was Finstock acting weird? “You’re my coach.”

“Good! He’s okay, guys! All of you, back on the field!”

A murmur of groans went through the boys.

“Keep groaning like that and I’ll make you do ten more laps!” Coach Finstock blew his whistle. 

All the boys ran off, except Scott.

Stiles rubbed his head. “I guess that’s the end of my career on the track team.”

“It’s just a small bump. You don’t have a concussion,” the nurse said.

Stile stood up, testing his legs. “Or a bum knee.”

“Give me your keys, I’ll take you home,” Scott offered.

“I’ll do that.” A voice said from behind them. It was Derek.

 

#### ***

Derek didn’t takes Stiles home, as promised. Instead he drove Stiles downtown and said, “I want to show you something.”

Stiles followed Derek out of the car and surveyed the building. It was so far removed from the burnt out hellhole in the woods

They went up in one of the elevators. “So you live here now?” Stiles asked.

Derek smiled. “Yeah.”

Stiles nodded as he took in the sights all around him. The split-level loft was empty, with a large spiral staircase connecting the floors. The walls were exposed brick, with a grey tiled floor. The only furniture was a king size bed in the middle of the largest room. There were built-in cupboards in the kitchen. “Looks pretty expensive. Did you rob a bank or something?” Stiles said, as he inspected the kitchen. The freezer was empty and Derek hadn’t even plugged it into the wall socket yet.

Derek scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve got money.”

“I’ve ‘got money’ said the guy who’s been living in a burned down house for almost a year.”

Derek shrugged. “I’ve always had money. I’ve never felt the need to spend it.”

“Well, in that case you should replace the money I used to get to Chicago, because when my dad gets the bill he is going to freak the hell out and I’ll be subjected to a Jack Bauer interrogation back at the station,” Stiles joked.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Stiles grinned. He tapped the Daewoo. “We should get this baby plugged in and fill it with beer.”

“Stiles, I’m not buying you alcohol.”

 

#### ***

Hours later, Stiles was stretched out on Derek's bed, doing homework.

Shirtless, Derek did chin-ups on some metal structure that did not look stable, in any shape or form. The muscles of his back knotted with tension, gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat as he pulled his body up and down. He moaned with each pull, distracting Stiles from his books.

Stiles groaned, “How am I supposed to concentrate with you doing that?” 

Derek smiled and jumped down from the metal…thing. Wordlessly, he stalked to the bed. He wasn’t even close yet but Stiles could already see the red filling Derek’s eyes.

Derek leaned over the bed. He touched Stiles’ head. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” Stiles pushed the books off the bed. They scattered across the floor.

“You blacked out.”

Stiles sighed. “No, I didn’t.”

A muscle in Derek’s jaw worked.

“Wait, were you there?”

“No.”

Stiles’ eyebrows knitted together.  “Then how do you know that I blacked out?”

Derek sat down on the bed. “I just know.”

Stiles flopped onto his back. “Well, I’m fine, if someone asks me that again, I swear, I’m going to kick something.” He grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him closer. “Kiss me.”

Derek crawled over Stiles’ body. “When I was gone, did you… with anyone else?”

“No.” _You want to know if I fucked anyone else?_ “Did you?”

“No.” Derek didn’t raise his eyes to Stiles'.  “Stiles, I didn’t want to go, I was forced to. I wouldn’t have left you like that for anything−”

Stiles pulled Derek into a crushing kiss. As he pushed his tongue into Derek’s mouth, he frantically unbuckled Derek’s jeans. He heard Scott’s voice in his head. _I think you’re using each other_.

Derek inhaled sharply when Stiles’ hand closed over his cock.  “We have to be careful.”

“I don’t want to be careful.” Careful? Careful left the building the day they kissed. Careful took a holiday when they started fucking. Careful retired when the condom ripped while they were fucking.  It was way too late for careful.  _“_ Derek, I didn’t turn.”  Stiles pushed Derek onto his back. “What if I’m immune like Lydia?”

Derek pushed him off. “Nobody is immune. I don’t know why Lydia didn’t turn when Peter bit her. I’m not going to risk anything based on a ‘what if!” he shouted.

Stiles sat up. “Are we arguing right now?” _This conversation –again?_

“No!” Derek snapped. He pulled Stiles into a bruising kiss and began to work off Stiles’ shirt. He fumbled with the buttons until he groaned with frustration and took his claws out. The fabric hissed as he shredded it, barely grazing Stiles’ skin.

Stiles was naked before he could protest and Derek was on him, pulling his legs apart. “Wait, Derek… wait.” One minute they were fighting and the next minute they were about to fuck. His brain needed to catch up. But Derek wasn’t listening, his mouth was warm and wet around Stiles’ cock, sucking him in.  Derek was so good at that, so damn good. Stiles collapsed into a sigh. “Okay… Forget it… Keep going.” When Derek’s fingers, wet and blunt, pushed inside him, Stiles' eyes flew open. “Derek…”

Derek lifted him up by the waist, until they were crouching. He balanced Stiles on his thighs.  “Stiles, do you want to…?”

Stiles could feel Derek’s thighs trembling beneath him. He reached for Derek’s fly and pulled his jeans open. “Fuck? Yes, please.” Stiles smiled and realised he liked Derek like this, squirming underneath him, helpless. 

Derek dug into one of his pockets before he kicked off his jeans. He took out a condom. His eyes were on Stiles’ face as he ripped the foil packet with his teeth. He rolled the lubricated latex onto his cock. Stiles straddled Derek’s waist and pressed their foreheads together. Stiles could feel the faint burn of Derek’s stubble against his skin as they kissed. Derek lifted him and slowly guided him down. As Stiles sank down onto Derek’s cock, Stiles bit down so hard on Derek’s lip, he almost drew blood. Derek hissed but he managed to stay still.

Derek pulled back and looked up at Stiles. “I like being near you,” he choked out; his lips were already red from where Stiles had bit him. 

Stiles circled his arms around Derek’s shoulders. “I like being with you too.” He began to ride Derek’s cock in exquisite slow movements; he set the pace. Derek never moved a muscle, he lifted Stiles’ chin up with his hand and looked up at Stiles. His eyes were wide and searching. _What is he seeing?_ Stiles wondered.

“You make me….” Derek frowned, as if he didn’t understand what he was about to say. “You make me… feel safe.”

Light streamed in and smeared a moving shadow of their bodies on the walls.

Stiles could feel that runaway train feeling and it was close and he knew it was going to happen again. They pushed against each other and came, together. 

 

#### ***

Afterwards, Derek didn't pull out. He lay still staring up at Stiles, his lips partially open. Stiles managed to roll him onto his back and blanket him with his body.

Stiles broke the silence. “You were wrong.”

“About what?”

“You said my ‘cute act’ wasn’t going to work on you.”

Derek ran his hand down Stiles’ back, tracing the contours. “What?”  

“That day at your house, just a week after I found you in the woods, remember? When I was leaving, you told me -- well, you warned me that my so-called ‘cute act’ wasn’t going to work on you.”

Derek smiled. “Yeah…” In his mind’s eye, he could see Stiles. He could see Stiles watching him, trying to help him, not knowing what he was doing; not knowing that everything he said, everything he did, would lead them to this space, this moment. It was like that moment had existed somewhere in the depths of space and they had swum through the dark to reach it.

Derek could hear the smile in Stiles’ voice. “Well, it worked, it worked big time.”

Just to make him shut up, he pulled Stiles into a kiss.

“Another one bites the dust,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips.

He pulled Stiles in, all the way in, to remind him that he was still inside.  He was still inside him, in more ways than one. “The only one bites the dust,” Derek corrected.


	32. Chapter 32

Stiles took a long shower at Derek’s apartment before he left. He managed to find an old pair of jeans of Derek's and a T-shirt to wear _._

Derek didn’t say a word to him. Instead, he sprawled out naked, on the bed. He watched Stiles under hooded lids, his eyes following all of Stiles’ movements. 

 _I still have some clothes in my gym locker. I can drive back to school and change before I go home._   “I have to go now,” Stiles said. He tried his best not to sound apologetic.

But Derek didn’t say anything to him.

 _Classic Derek Hale_ , Stiles thought, as he closed the door behind him. _Moody without a cause_.

Stiles found himself loitering outside the door. He stood there for the longest time, staring at the elevator. _Dammit._ Stiles ran back inside and grabbed Derek, kissing him.

Wordlessly, Derek accepted the kiss. 

 

#### ***

It was dark by the time Stiles arrived home.  As he parked his Jeep on the driveway, he noticed that the garage door was open.

There were boxes lying all over the garage floor. “Dad?” Stiles called out.

“I’m in here,” his father said from behind a pile of boxes.

“What're you doing?”

His dad looked up. His shirtsleeves were rolled up. “I was looking for something. I thought I had left in here but,” he gestured around at the pile of cardboard boxes, “I guess I was wrong.”

“Hey, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help?”

His dad let out a heavy sigh. “I was looking for a journal but I found some old photos, and I got distracted.”

 _I’m the worst son ever._ Stiles stepped around the boxes. “Hey, if you need me to help you put things away, I really don’t mind.” He reached for a box; there were stacks of photos inside it. Stiles recognized the photos. There were photos of seagulls and the sandcastle −well, more like a foxhole - he'd built. He could remember his mother’s laughter, and her hair dancing in the wind. “The weekend at Carmel,” Stiles said to himself.

His dad pushed a box out of the way. “It was almost a horrible day,” he said heavily.

Stiles frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You almost drowned that day,” his dad said.

“I did?”

“Your mom and I turned our backs for a second and the next thing we knew you were in the surf.”

Stiles dropped his backpack and leafed through the photos. “I don’t remember that.”

“Before I could even react, some kid swam out in the surf to get you, and fished you out of the water. He was barely five feet tall, a scrawny little thing. To this day I don’t understand how he could swim against the tide that fast.”

“I was six− you’d think I'd remember a near death experience.”  Stiles frowned. “I remember everything about that day except that.”

“Like I said, your mom and I turned our backs for one second, one lousy second, and you raced off chasing after some damn birds.”  His father sounded so apologetic, like it had happened only yesterday instead of ten years ago.

“Seagulls.” Stiles chimed in.

“What?”

“Those damn birds were seagulls.”

A rueful smile touched his father’s face. “Yes, seagulls.”

Stiles shook the dust out of a pile of Polaroids. “Is there anything else I should know about, like maybe you and mom dropped me on my head and forgot to tell me?”

His dad frowned and raised his eyes, as if he was trying to recall a memory. “I’m pretty sure I dropped you on your head only twice… Your mom dropped you a couple of hundred times. Nope, that’s about it.”

“You know what, dad? For all my unremembered pain and suffering, I deserve a new car,” Stiles said, smiling.

“If you want a new a car, you should get a job like Scott and buy your own.”

“Doing what? Flipping burgers after school? Do you have any idea how many burgers I would have to flip to afford a new Jeep?”

His dad smiled. “Nope, you’d probably eat them all before they even reached the customer.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, the look his father shot him made his jaw shut involuntarily.  “Should we hug? I feel like we should have an epic Stilinski hug. You can buy me a car afterwards.”  His dad reached for him, pulled Stiles under his arm to ruffle his hair.  Stiles laughed and tried to squirm out of his grip. “Okay, forget I said anything.”

“I miss her.” His dad’s voice was so low that Stiles could barely hear him. He slowly released Stiles.

 _Me too._ Stiles wiped the corners of his eyes and cleared his throat. “Hey Dad, can I take some of the photos?”

“Sure.”

Stiles knelt down by the box and carefully went through all the photos until he finally found a couple of Polaroids that he liked.

 

#### ***

In the middle of the night, Derek came in through Stiles' window. For a moment, he hesitated. It had been a while since he had been in Stiles’ room.   _Sixteen weeks, two days, and seven hours._  Derek craned his neck through the frame. He felt like an intruder but the urge to be near Stiles was stronger than any logic or common sense. _Too late_. Derek gritted his teeth and stepped inside the bedroom. 

He found Stiles curled up in a ball on the bed. Derek froze, suddenly afraid to go any further. Was he even welcome?  “Stiles?”

Stiles rolled onto his side. “I thought you weren’t going to come here anymore.”

Derek swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Why?” Throughout the time they had spent together, Stiles had never turned him away; he had never pulled away. Stiles had always accepted all of Derek’s advances.

“Because you have your new apartment and everything, I just thought…”

“I want to be _here_.”

“Derek?”

The sound of Stiles’ voice pulled him like a magnet. Derek stumbled toward the bed. “Yeah?”

They reached for each other in the dark.

Soon he had his arms wrapped around Stiles. Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck. _Perfect fit_ , he thought.  The warmth of Stiles’ body closed around him like a safety net. Derek inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent, that sweet heady scent, which always made his heart hurt and his cock hard. Derek turned his face to catch Stiles’ lips, but he missed and the kiss landed on Stiles’ cheek. Without thinking, Derek opened his mouth. His tongue snaked out. Derek started licking the side of Stiles’ face; he made long swipes with his tongue over the rose-plum skin. He wanted to−needed to - gather all of Stiles’ scent and replace it with his own. Let the whole damn world know who he−

Stiles slipped out of Derek's arms and pushed him away. He wiped at his face. “Oh man, you’re slobbering all over me.” 

Even though Stiles’ manner was teasing, Derek knew he'd done something wrong. He was about to apologise when he realised Stiles was laughing.

“It’s fine, it just feels… interesting,” Stiles said as he pulled his grey cotton T-shirt up over his head.  Then he was stripping out of his boxers, and tossing his clothes carelessly onto the floor. 

Derek smiled. They had had sex four times at the apartment, but Stiles still wanted more. Stiles still wanted him. 

 _After all_ , _he’s a sixteen-year-old boy with raging hormones._ Derek sat down on the edge of the bed and began to take his clothes off. _What’s my excuse?_ He didn’t have one, only a perpetual hunger, which only ever let up when he was with Stiles. Derek leaned over to Stiles’ bedside lamp and snapped it on. He quickly dropped his clothes on the floor and joined Stiles on the bed. Derek laid down as Stiles crawled over him. He reached for Stiles, needing to feel his skin against his own. 

Stiles pushed down on Derek, and used his hands to support himself, like he was doing a push-up. _Good God, I can barely keep my hands off you._  Derek buried his fingers in Stiles’ closely cropped hair. Stiles rested his head against Derek’s chest and then he dropped his head so he could watch his cock, rubbing against Derek's thighs. Moving on instinct, Derek hooked his leg over Stiles’, bucking up to meet his thrusts. Stiles’ cock slipped between Derek’s thighs.

They froze.

Stiles hissed in a breath and sat up.  “Derek?”

Derek pulled his knees up. “Do you want to fuck?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

Derek sighed. “Do you want to fuck _me_?”

Stiles didn’t answer. Instead, he jumped off the bed. “Just give me a moment to−” He went to his desk drawer and rummaged through it.

Derek sat up on the bed. “What are you looking for? Stiles, in my pocket there’s −”

“Yes, safe sex police, I’ve got you covered.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“Ah huh, found you.” Stiles held up his iPod, placed it on the docking station, and turned it on. A song started playing. The last song he must have played was on full blast, as soon as he hit play. The speakers blasted into life. Stiles quickly dropped the volume down. “Oh shit, sorry,” he said as he turned to Derek, “I almost woke my dad.”

Derek closed his eyes, for a moment he let his senses reach out. Stiles’ dad was downstairs and the TV was on.  Derek couldn’t make out much.  He could hear the soft rustle of pages turning. Derek frowned. There seemed to be a resounding sadness that surrounded the Sheriff...

His eyes snapped open as Stiles covered the bedside lamp with a red T-shirt.

“Mood lighting,” Stiles explained as he crawled on top of Derek.

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re a dork. You do know that, right?”

“Yeah, but you still like me anyway.”

Derek pulled Stiles down by the shoulders until their foreheads were touching. “Yes, I do.” He didn’t realise he was smiling until Stiles was tracing the curve of his lips with his fingertip.

Stiles sank back and moved down the length of Derek’s body. He pushed his face between Derek’s inner thighs, and hummed as he pressed his nose against Derek’s cock; he rubbed his face there, inhaling deeply. As if on cue, Derek’s thighs began to twitch, although he tried his best to keep still. Derek was about to stop Stiles from going any further when Stiles looked up at him.

Derek groaned. “Don’t smirk at me like that.”

“Huh?” There was mock surprise in Stiles’ voice.

Derek heard the lube cap pop and he relaxed a bit. “You know, you have an infuriating, self-satisfied smirk.  Whenever I see it, I want to pin you against a wall and−”

Stiles inserted a slick finger inside him in reply.

 _“Stiles…”_ Derek hissed through clenched teeth. The sound vibrated through the both of them. It felt good, it felt so damn good. He pushed up into Stiles’ finger, wanting more.

Stiles pushed in a second finger, making a lightning flash of pleasure surge through Derek’s body. “Stiles…” He tried to keep his legs still but they collapsed apart of their own accord, just as Stiles began to thrust his fingers inside him.  Stiles started out slow, in and out, gradually building the movement. Derek bit his lip. “Stop teasing me. I want to feel you inside me.”

When Stiles squirted more KY on him, Derek’s toes curled.

“It’s cold, sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Derek gasped.

Stiles squeezed the tube, a lot more lube got on the sheets and on Derek thighs.

Derek watched, amused. “Are you freaked out?”

“No.”

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come here.” He sat up and pulled Stiles into his arms. Stiles dropped his head on Derek’s shoulder. “We don’t have to, we can stop right now…. I’d be okay with that.” He ran his hands up Stiles’ shoulders.  A part of him wished that Kate had said that to him, that first time on the floor of her apartment− Derek mentally shook himself. He didn’t want to think about her.  _Not here, not now._ She was a nightmare that he had buried in Chicago−

Stiles slipped his hand between their bodies and closed it around Derek’s cock, stroking him back to the present. “Where did you just go?”

Derek cleared his thoughts. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Stiles said, “because I want you here.”  Stiles moved down Derek’s thighs.

Derek sighed and reclined onto his back. His eyes dropped to Stiles’ cock. Derek was so turned on and− he groaned when he felt his canines coming out. He quickly brought his hands up to his face to check his fingernails, they were fine but his groan deepened when he felt his canines extend even further and realised that he couldn’t close his mouth all the way. 

Stiles was staring at him. The look in his eyes was so direct that the intimacy of it all was so terrifying, like he was looking directly into Derek’s soul.

Derek wanted to turn his face away. _This is different,_ he told himself. _This is Stiles._  Stiles could see him; all of him, both sides of him and Stiles wasn’t flinching. Derek met his gaze, head on. 

Stiles’ face broke out in a smile. Whatever he saw, he liked. “Who’s freaked out now?” he whispered as he leaned forward and planted a trail of light kisses along Derek’s collarbone.

 _Don’t kiss me, not when I’m like this,_ he wanted to say.

Stiles captured Derek’s lips with his, and then his tongue pushed in. Derek could feel Stiles’ tongue running over his teeth; Stiles’ tongue went over the top row of Derek’s teeth, and then moved down to the bottom row, and finally, his focus shifted to the canines. With the tip of his tongue, Stiles’ went over the sharpest point as if testing the sharpness.

All Derek could do was remain as still as possible. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to accidentally nick Stiles with the dagger-sharp canines. The last thing he wanted to do was to taste Stiles’ blood. _One taste and I’d be a goner._

Stiles pulled back. “I’ll make it good for you, like you did for me,” he whispered, as he rolled the latex over his cock and looked up at Derek. “Sit up a little.” 

Derek let Stiles stuff a pillow behind him. He folded his knees around Stiles, pushing back against the pillow and the wall. Stiles knelt between his legs. The scent of his arousal permeated the air between them like a mist.

“Stiles...” Derek’s breath hitched when he felt that first hard push. He wrapped his arms around the curve of Stiles’ back and pulled him in, taking the full length in one thrust. 

They gasped together. As Stiles went all the way in, his movement was steady and careful. Derek could see tiny silver beads of sweat on Stiles’ brow gleaming. Stiles thrust slowly. They began to move together. Derek tightened his grip on the swell of Stiles’ ass.

“Let go.”

“What?” Stiles choked out. The red hue from the night lamp, bled into his face. His eyes were huge and glazed.

“You’re holding back. You think you’re going to hurt me if you let yourself go. Stiles, trust me, I want you to let go.”

Stiles nodded as if he understood, but he thrust back inside Derek and withdrew at the same controlled pace.

“Let go…” Derek repeated gruffly, “Please, fuck me, hard.”  He caught the look of pure surprise that flickered across Stiles’ face, because he rarely -- actually, he had never spoken to Stiles like that before.  He rarely cursed but tonight he wanted—needed Stiles to lose control and he was willing to say or do anything to get him there. “Stiles, I need you balls deep, inside me.”

Stiles groaned, he gripped Derek’s arms and pulled them above his head. His hands closed like handcuffs around Derek’s wrists as he drove his cock home. This time Stiles wasn’t holding anything back. His movement was forceful, possessive, a far cry from his previous controlled thrusts. Derek laughed and easily twisted his hands free. A desperate moan escaped from Stiles. In protest, Stiles slammed his full weight down on Derek.

Derek had to turn his face away to prevent them from head-butting each other.

Stiles’ control slipped. His hands balled into fists on either side of Derek’s shoulders, anchoring them down on the bed. Stiles’ body moved like a challenge, back and forth, against Derek. His breath was hot and desperate on Derek’s neck as he pounded into Derek with abandon, shoving Derek’s body further and further up the bed. Derek laughed, arching his back off the bed, pushing back, urging Stiles on.

Derek took a laboured breath as his hand travelled between their bodies, seeking out the point where their sweat slick bodies were joined. His fingers lingered there, tracing where Stiles was so hard, so deep and full inside him. Derek moaned, closed his hand around his own cock and began to stroke himself to the movement of Stiles’ cock.

 _You feel so damn right_ , Derek thought, _I’d kill to make this last forever−_

Then it hit him. It finally hit him.

_Pack is what you make it._

It was Stiles.

Stiles was the only pack he wanted. Stiles was the only pack he needed.

“ _Stiles_ …” Derek’s whole body shuddered. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He was going to come like Niagara Falls. His heart was beating itself raw, his blood scorching inside his veins. Then something surged inside him, and for a moment he went blind. Derek let out a choked cry as he came. His come was sticky and hot between their bodies.

Stiles came a few heartbeats later. He collapsed in a tangle of long limbs and Derek effortlessly absorbed the impact.

“Oh God, that was good.” Stiles murmured, against Derek’s ear.  He pushed up on his elbows as he began to move away.

Derek slowly slid his hands over the arch of Stiles’ back and he crossed his ankles around Stiles’ waist. “Stiles…. Wait.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to stay, inside me, like this for as long as you can... please.”

Stiles’ lips found Derek’s mouth, and he pushed in, as deep as he could. His breath was sweet and warm like a sunny day in Carmel and he stayed. 


	33. Chapter 33

“You were talking in your sleep,” Stiles whispered.

Derek opened his eyes. Ambient light glowed through the blinds. He shifted, closing the gap between him and Stiles, and sighed. He would have been happy to lie there, listening to the rhythm of their hearts for the rest of the day. He could have been perfectly content to let the day go by. But Derek knew he couldn’t allow himself to sink into a fantasy, a fantasy which would only last for as long as he kept his eyes closed. “What did I say?”

“I don’t remember.”

Derek frowned and decided to let that lie pass. 

“What’s a werewolf's life expectancy?” Stiles said, turning his back to Derek, and dragging all of the sheets with him. 

Derek felt his chest tighten. “I’ve heard of five to six hundred years, with hunters getting more efficient over the centuries, I think it’s dropped down to three hundred, maybe even two hundred years.”

“Do you know the average human life expectancy is seventy to seventy-five years?”

“I do.”

“Are you happy?”

A simple question which he didn’t have an answer for.  “When I’m with you, I am.” Derek ran his hand down Stiles’ back. _Look at me_. His hand stopped as Stiles’ whole body tensed under his touch.

“Wrong answer. In fact, worst answer ever.”

“What do you want me to say?”  _Tell me and I’ll say it._

“I don’t want you to say anything. We can’t go on like this.” Stiles swallowed in a breath. “You treat me like I’m some sort of…lifeboat and I’m _not_. I can’t be responsible for your happiness. Do you even see how crazy this whole thing is?”

“Stiles, tell me what’s changed between last night and this morning?”

“Nothing’s changed. We are exactly where we’ve always been, since the day in the woods, when you kicked Scott and me out of your so-called property−” Stiles sat up abruptly and the duvet fell away revealing an array of bruises all around his torso. He threw up his arms as if he had remembered something. “Well, except for the fact we’ve had sex since then.”

“Stiles−”

“I gave these to myself, going at you, _remember_?” Stiles smiled. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Why are you acting like this? What the hell did I say to you?”

Stiles ignored him. Stiles got off the bed and took the T-shirt hanging over the bedside lamp. He held it against his crotch. “Why are you even still here? Unless, you’re planning to come downstairs and have breakfast with me and my dad?”

Derek gave him a weary smile. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Me here, staying?”

“Well. I didn’t know the fantasy and the reality wouldn’t match up.” Stiles started pacing. “Scott has being trying to tell me for _months_ and I ignored him.”

“Scott? What does Scott have to do with any of−?” Derek stopped. Somewhere in the background, he'd picked up a sound, and his ears pricked suddenly, as his brain identified the movement. It got closer. It was the sound of hard boots on wooden floorboards. Which could only mean− without a moment of thought, Derek dove under the duvet.

 

#### ***

Stiles’ head snapped towards the door as he realised his dad was banging on the other side. _Oh shit_. 

“Stiles!” his dad called. “Get off the phone and get ready for school.”

Stiles glanced at the bed and realised Derek had disappeared under the covers. Stiles’ gaze fell onto the wastepaper basket; he gave himself a mental shake. _I have to remember to empty that out_. If his dad ever found out about Derek, he’d be grounded for the rest of his natural life _and_ God knows what his dad would do to Derek. “Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t be late. I’m the responsible one, remember?”

“Do you need gas money or anything?” Dad asked from the other side of the door.

“I’m covered, thanks.” Stiles poked the heap of duvet which was Derek’s shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t worry, my dad isn’t going to walk in on us.” 

Like a cartoon character, a wide-eyed Derek--with bedhead -- stuck his head out of the duvet, peered around and then ducked back down again, looking so damn goofy. Stiles pressed his lips together to keep from smiling, but he couldn’t help it. He poked Derek again. “My dad’s not going to barge in, promise,” he whispered. Derek’s fear of his dad was hilarious. But then again, before he got to know her, Mrs McCall was terrifying. _Someone else’s parents always seem scarier than your own,_ he realised.

“I left you your morning usual- bagels, eggs, toast and OJ - on the counter. Do you want anything else?”

“Thanks, Dad, I’m good.”

“Okay, bud.”

 

#### ***

Derek only emerged from the covers once he knew Stiles’ dad was downstairs. Down the hallway, he could hear running water: Stiles in the shower.

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He pulled the covers around him. He knew he liked Stiles’ scent but this was… something else. _I don’t want to leave his bed._ His and Stiles’ combined scents, was far better, far superior than anything he have ever imagined. A smile touched his lips. _Heaven_.

_“Wolves don’t go to heaven.” Laura laughed._

_His teacher had told him when someone dies they go to heaven. Laura was a know-it-all. She was only fourteen but she towered over him like all the grownups. Mom had told him if he ate all of his vegetables, one day, he was going to become taller−Derek had eaten the gross broccoli and carrots and peas−and he was still waiting for the day to come. Derek stuck out his tongue out at his sister._

_Teachers don’t fib. “Says who?” Derek demanded._

_Laura skipped around him. “Says, Pamuya!”_

Of all the times he had left Stiles’ bed without a word, Derek had never thought the first time he actually did stay that Stiles would be angry with him. _I know why_ , he thought, _I’ve put it off for far too long_. Stiles needed the truth. Stiles wasn’t going to say yes to him, he wasn’t going be pack with him, not as long as there was a Grand Canyon of lies between them. _How could he?_

The door opened and Stiles walked in. A navy blue towel was tied tightly around his waist. Stiles kept his back to Derek and stepped around Derek’s clothes which were scattered all over the floor. “You’re still here.”

Derek got off the bed and went to Stiles. “I’m waiting for you.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up, “And you’re still naked, no surprises there.” Stiles walked past Derek and went to his closet. “Hi, my name is Derek Hale and _I’m allergic to clothing_ …please keep all fabric away from me, thanks.” Stiles muttered to himself as he started paging through the hangers.

“Stiles…”

“What do you want, Derek?”

Derek stepped towards Stiles and pressed his body against Stiles’ bare back. “I want to kiss you.”

Stiles swung around. Drops of water hung at the tips of his lashes. He blinked rapidly and cleared them away, then licked his lips, drawing Derek’s attention to them. Stiles’ skin was cold and wet from the shower. Derek didn’t care. He pressed his lips against Stiles’ mouth.  Derek held his breath and waited, he waited for Stiles to push him away. He waited for Stiles to tell him to go to hell. He waited for rejection, a rejection which never came because Stiles never did what Derek expected.

At first, Stiles didn’t respond. He kept his lips tightly pressed together. He stayed still, rigid as a board against Derek, almost as if he was testing his own resolve.  Derek smiled against Stiles’ mouth, closed his eyes and nibbled gently on Stiles’ lower lip. He ran his tongue over Stiles’ lips, coaxing them open. Stiles sighed as his lips parted, Derek took the opportunity to slip his tongue in.

This was probably their last kiss, Derek thought. Once he told Stiles what he had done, everything between them was going to change.

Derek moaned and pulled him closer until Stiles’ chest was against his. Derek angled his hips forward. _Can you feel what you do to me?_ He ran his hands down the curve of Stiles’ back, down to his butt, spanning his hands over the swells of Stiles’ ass, before cupping him, forcing him closer until Stiles was pressed against him, feet to chest. _Be mine_ , he wanted to growl—no—he wanted to beg _. Be mine, just for a day, just for a night… just for forever._ But he knew he could never say it out loud. He could never ask that of Stiles. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. The only thing he could ever have were the scraps which Stiles was willing to throw at him, nothing more.

 The distinctive scent of Stiles’ arousal, heady and sweet, hit Derek’s nostrils as the heat rose from their bodies. _Ripe for the taking,_ he thought. For a moment it occurred to him how easy it would be, to get Stiles on the bed, to get him on his back and pull—no—rip the towel off his body. It would be so easy, to pin him down and straddle him. So easy, to slide down on to his cock and ride him; so easy, to take him and fuck him senseless, make him want, make him feel−make him forget−

Abruptly, Derek pulled away _. I’d kill myself first, before I ever manipulate you like that._ He raised his eyes to Stiles’ face and made his decision. “Do I still have the prize?”

“What?” Stiles stepped away, his hands tightened around the towel as he snapped back into reality.

“Do I still have _the prize_?”

Stiles blinked rapidly, and then smiled wryly. “Yeah… you do, it’s always been yours, to use any which way you wanted. God knows, I’ve let you abuse it − in fact I should have put a damn expiry date on it but the underdeveloped frontal lobe of my brain,” he tapped his head to demonstrate, “keeps me from seeing things all the way through, if today is Friday then ‘down the road’ is Monday morning to me. It’s probably the main reason I’m not allowed to drink or vote… Lack of deductive reasoning they say. It doesn’t help that most of the blood flow to my brain is already limited… and now I’m babbling.” His eyes flickered over Derek’s body. “So yeah, end of babble.”

“I want to cash it in − tonight, if that’s okay with you?”

Stiles nodded and turned his face away, refusing to meet Derek’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed pink and it wasn’t from the heat of the shower.

Despite himself, despite everything, Derek found himself smiling. “Stiles…”

“Huh?”

“I’m keeping the sheets.”

 

#### ***

Stiles’ dad was parked across the street from the house. Derek spotted him as he slipped out the window. Sheriff Stilinski sat in his Cruiser reading a newspaper.  The windows were rolled all the way down. His sole focus seemed to be the paper in front of him. A police scanner crackled in the background. “ _County, we have a six-four-seven, at Main Street. Copy?_ ” A series of voices faded in and out of earshot. Derek tugged at the collar of his leather jacket and jogged towards the car. When Sheriff Stilinski saw him approaching, he gave Derek the once over and returned to his newspaper.

Derek cleared his throat. “Good morning, sir.”

Stiles’ dad looked at him as he closed the _Beacon Hill’s Bugle._  “You’re Derek Hale.”

Derek stared at the ground _. You arrested me._ Were those his boots? How was it possible he had never noticed before how much they needed buffing? _Do you even polish CATs?_ Derek looked up. “Yes, sir.”

Sheriff Stilinski’s shrewd blue eyes narrowed. _The look_. Derek had seen it many times before, on Stiles’ face.

“I’ve never seen you here before. Do you live in the neighbourhood?”

Derek shifted on his feet. “No, sir, I use to live out in… I mean near the woods.”

“You’re mumbling, son. Speak up.”

Derek was in the interrogation room all over again. He gestured blindly in the direction of the woods far in the distance.  “I use to live in a house in the woods but I moved to town a day ago.”

“I see.” Stiles’ dad gave him a curt nod and returned to the newspaper and with that he silently dismissed Derek.

 “Nice talking to you…again.” Derek winced as he turned away.

 

#### ***

When Derek saw the nondescript black SUV parked next to his Camaro, he tensed. He sniffed. The air was rank with gunpowder and wolfsbane. _Argent_. He walked around the SUV and tapped his claws against the black tinted windows. For a brief red moment, Derek wanted to put his fist through the glass, he wanted to drag Chris Argent through the window and− _Easy_. _Don’t lose it. Not here, not now._

An image flashed in his mind: Laura at fourteen, her bright blue eyes shining with mischief and laughter… then it faded as quickly as it arrived, and another memory replaced it.

Derek saw the night he buried Laura in the yard. He felt the cold damp earth under his fingernails, as he dug a shallow grave. He smelt wolfsbane, toxic and sweet. Touching the plant would leave him sick for hours but he needed it, to seal her grave−

  _She’s gone,_ he told himself _. This is only a memory_. She could no longer tether him to a hollow space, somewhere between emptiness and cold anger in which he had taught himself to exist in.

 _This is for Laura!_ Derek wanted to scream, as he slashed his Uncle’s throat open. _This is for me_ … Derek closed his eyes, seeking out an image, anything that could calm his pulse and bring him back down− Stiles’ face came to him in the dark. A reel of memories, Derek’s own private collection, played in his mind like a song, beautiful and painful.

He heard Stiles on the phone begging Scott to let him die. He smelt Stiles’ fear as he told Derek what a jerk he was. He saw Stiles through a blur of chlorine-filled water, and finally, he saw Stiles, looking up at him, his eyes glossed with tears, his lips parted as Derek entered him for the first time− Derek’s eyes snapped open.

Chris Argent, his lips peeled back revealing bright white teeth, his chilling and handsome face frozen into something somewhere between a sneer and a smile, stepped out of the car. “Derek, I want to talk but I see you already have the claws and fangs out. Jesus, the whole fucking enchilada.”

Derek turned back to the road. He could see the Sheriff’s Cruiser. _Walk away,_ he told himself _._ But how could he? His family was _right there_.

“I have a question for you," Argent said. "In the State of California how many years in prison can you get for contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” Derek’s eyes narrowed. Argent was wearing a gun holster under his jacket. With Derek’s speed, it would take him less than a second to disarm him. The rational human part of him knew Argent wasn’t going to discharge a weapon, not in public, not without cause, not without reason. But Derek’s Alpha side went rabid. An Alpha’s instinct to protect his own was stronger than the pull of gravity, he saw a hunter, a hunter who carried a weapon − a hunter who was willing to discharge a weapon − right where his family lived, where his family slept, and this realisation made his insides burn.

In broad daylight, in the middle of Beacon Hill’s suburbia, Derek answered his instincts, the only way he knew how.

He went straight for Chris Argent’s throat.


	34. Chapter 34

Maybe it was the low hanging shelves, the dripping tap, or the boarded up windows that barely let any light in. Or maybe it was the combination of all those things put together, but Derek’s loft suddenly felt suffocatingly small. Before he realised what he was doing, Derek found himself punching a man-sized hole into the red brick walls, until they rattled and shook in their old dry crusted cement bones and the walls gave away.

His knuckles were bleeding by the time he was done.

Derek raised his hands to his face and studied his bruised and broken hands. The skin on his knuckles had frayed away, exposing the muscle and bone underneath. He wiped absently at the back of his hands with a strange feeling of disconnection as if he was looking at somebody else’s hands and not his own. Slowly, the skin started to pull together, regenerating right before his eyes, stitching together covering all the cuts and bruises until nothing remained, except for a thin film of blood over the skin, which could be easily washed away. 

Derek flexed his fingers as he went into the kitchen. He cursed loudly as he bumped his head against the low hanging shelf above the sink. He rubbed at the spot with the tips of his fingers just as his phone vibrated deep in his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID _. Dammit_ , _Stiles_. Derek pressed his forehead against the cold brick wall. He felt a tremor go through his hand. He tightened his grip on the phone and forced his hand to stay steady.

There was silence, but he could hear Stiles’ breathing. “Stiles?”

“Look, I’m sorry for acting like a complete jerk this morning,” Stiles said. “You hurt me and a part of me is still angry and I can’t say this to you in person because every time I look at you, I _literally_ lose my mind. I know this probably sounds like some stupid excuse or lie but it's what always happens.”

Derek looked down at the blood smeared on the sink. It covered the surface with long copper streaks which were starting to turn black. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.

“Are you wolfed out? Your voice sounds different...”

Derek caught a glimpse of himself in the dirty window. His canines were out. There were dark smudges of blood across his forehead. But worst of all were his eyes. They were the colour of pain and passion, the colour of violence, so red and so dead.  “I am.”

“Why?”

Derek couldn't help but hear the unconcealed concern in Stiles’ voice. A pang of guilt flashed through him. “It happens.”  _Sometimes, I can control it, and then there are times I don’t want to._

Stiles sighed, _“_ This morning _…_ I didn’t say all those things to hurt you.”

“I know.” Derek wiped the blood on his jeans and walked out of the kitchen.

“Derek, you keep giving me two word replies. Are you doing it on purpose? −Never mind, don’t answer that.”

“Stiles, I still want us to talk. We both need it.” Derek looked over at Argent’s body on the bed. “Stiles, I’m sorry but I have to go.”

There was a moment of silence and Derek realised Stiles was probably nodding on the other side. He needed to say more.  “Stiles…” 

The line went dead.

 

#### ***

“Why am I such a dick?” Stiles said. 

“Try to avoid engaging in any dickish behaviour or committing any dickish acts and you’ll immediately stop being a dick,” Scott  said, looking up from Lydia’s _Cosmopolitan_ magazine that he was paging through. “Trust me, it’s that simple.”

Stiles laughed. He stared down at his phone. Scott had a point. He shoved the phone into his pocket. “I’ll try, I’ll definitely try.”

He and Scott were eating lunch alone together, since Allison and Lydia had gone off to the bathroom an hour ago and still hadn’t come back. 

Scott closed Lydia’s magazine. “According to this,” he tapped the cover, “you’re with Mr Wrong and things will never work out. You should dump him and start a poly… Wait.” Scott flipped the pages. “Ah yes, a _polyamorous_ relationship with Allison and I.  Apparently those are really in right now.”

“Tempting, I’ll think about it… Who’s Mr Wrong?”

“He’s the opposite of Mr Right.”

“Scott, Derek’s more, Mr Dirty Wrong.”

“Oh man.” Scott pushed his tray of food away.  “I really didn’t need that image in my head.”

Stiles laughed. The bell was going to ring any minute and lunch would be over and he and Scott didn’t share the same classes for the rest of the day _. If I’m going to tell him I should do it now_ , Stiles thought. _Don’t wuss out_ , he cleared his throat.

“Scott-”

Overhead, the bell rang.

Scott got to his feet and started gathering his stuff.

Stiles tried again. “Scott.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being cool about everything. You know, Derek and everything…”

Scott shrugged. “Like it or not, I’ll always look out for you. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t?”

“Dude, I’m like six months older than you.”

“ _Dude_ , I could be aging in dog years.”

Stiles smiled. “Point taken.”

 

#### ***

By the time Derek managed to clean the blood off the sink and walls, Argent finally stirred. He sat up with a start and looked around. When he realised where he was, his eyes widened in alarm. “I’m still alive,” he croaked at Derek. “You choked me unconscious in the street.” His voice was dry as sand. Argent touched his neck, as if recalling the memory. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

 _In another life, I would have,_ Derek thought. “You know the rules and you broke them.” There wasn’t a trace of life in his  own voice.

Argent moved to the edge of Derek’s bed and swung his legs around to sit up. His hands reached for a gun, a gun which wasn’t there.

Derek smiled in the dark, displaying his canines in all their glory. He had taken the magnum off Argent’s unconscious body. Derek held up the weapon. In the light, the silver barrel winked menacingly. “Looking for _this_?” Derek hissed.  He released the magazine and emptied out the bullets. “You know, I can smell the wolfsbane inside. Were you planning to shoot me?”

Cool as frost, Argent returned Derek’s smile with a shark grin. “I carry that piece with me everywhere I go. It’s nothing personal.”

Derek dropped the bullets. The shells clanked softly as they hit the tiles. “I’m keeping the gun and one bullet. You can have the rest.” 

The gun went flying into the air. It landed at Argent’s feet. Argent didn’t look at it. His eyes were focused solely on Derek. The smile slowly faded on Argent’s face when he realised what he was seeing. Derek’s eyes followed his gaze as Argent’s eyes took in the dry crusted blood on Derek’s T-shirt, the long gnarled scratches on his throat, and the streaks of blood on his neck and face.

Argent whistled slowly. “Jesus, you look like shit. Were you in some kind of dog fight?”

Derek moved closer. “You see this?” He jabbed his finger against his chest. “You see all of this? I did this. So I wouldn’t do it to you. Do you understand me? I could have killed you. But I didn’t because I want this shit between us to end today, whether you like it or not. Knowing all you know about me and my kind, you know Scott will be with Allison for the rest of her natural life. Scott is the only reason you’re alive.” Derek looked away and his hand tightened around the bullet.

“You’re calling for a truce. Does your pack know?”

Derek didn’t answer.

“The one thing I’ve always admired about wolves is their loyalty to their pack. That blind loyalty is the cornerstone of what makes a family. My own father was willing to kill me and my daughter to save his own skin.” Argent went to Derek and held out his hand. “I can’t undo all the wrongs my father−” Argent caught himself. “I can’t undo the wrongs, _Gerard_ and my sister committed against your family but I _can_ give you my word that it ends today.”

They stood there, sizing each other up. Man to man, Alpha to Alpha. For the first time in years, Derek heard his father’s voice _. A real man has mercy. A wolf doesn’t._

Derek closed his bloody hand around Argent's hand.

 

#### ***

Early evening, before the sun had left sky, Derek’s phone buzzed.

_We need to talk – Scott._

Derek’s eyes narrowed. _When?_

_I’ll be at your house in ten minutes._

Derek frowned. Stiles was the only person who knew he no longer lived at his burnt down family house. He wanted to keep it that way, for now.  _I’ll be there,_ Derekreplied.  He spent twenty minutes driving to the woods. He found Scott and Isaac’s tall lurking frame waiting for him. As Derek took in the scene, unease settled in his gut like a lump of lead. “What’s this about?” He directed his red glare at Isaac.

Isaac didn’t answer. His eyes flickered to Scott, as if he was waiting for Scott’s permission to speak.

“We’ve been thinking and we decided to put the pack back together,” Scott said.

Derek bristled. He squared his shoulders and turned to Scott. “Is this true? You want me as your Alpha? No bullshit?” Derek held Scott’s eyes, searching for a flicker of defiance, anything which would tell him this was all a joke.

“You‘re back.” Isaac drew out the words. “Give us one reason why we shouldn’t be a pack?”

Derek was about to answer − he smelt her long before he heard or saw her.  He caught her scent as she moved on the other side of the door−Derek turned as the large wooden door creaked open. Someone was coming−

A tall girl with long blonde hair which almost reached her waist, stepped onto the porch− “Erica?” Derek went to her and Erica drew him into her arms in a tight hug, her honey blonde hair in his face. Derek drew back to look at her. “What are you doing here? You look so different…” There was a lightness to her, which hadn’t been there before. He stared at her face, at the glow of happiness that radiated from her, as well as the slight change to her scent…“You’re pregnant?” It wasn’t really a question.

Erica blushed and looked away. She wasn’t showing at all, but the distinct scent of developing life came from her. “Six weeks, due next spring.” Even her voice had changed.

Derek blinked rapidly against a sudden dryness in his eyes. The words left his lips before he could bite them back: “Who’s the father?” Did he have the right to ask? He saw Boyd from the corner of his eye, stepping out of the house. Boyd went to them. He was now more than a foot taller than Derek.

“Derek,” Boyd said, his voice rich with warmth.

Warmth that he didn’t deserve. Derek blindly reached to shake Boyd’s hand, but Boyd drew him into a hug. Derek pulled away and studied Boyd and Erica; he took a deep breath. “I’m happy for both of you.”

“There’s still one more,” Scott said.

Who else? _Oh right_. “Jackson.” 

Jackson appeared from nowhere. He raised his hand. “Present.” He smiled, a smile that belied the fact the last time Derek had stood this close to him, he and Peter had dug their claws into his back to put an end to his life as the Kanima. Derek felt unease settle in his gut. But all was forgiven, it seemed. Jackson walked around him and stood next to Isaac, unfazed by Derek’s discomfort.

There they were: Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, and Jackson. All his Betas, all in one place, at the same time.

Derek looked at them like he was seeing them for the very first time. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, he had handpicked from the Beacon Hills’ student body. He’d chosen them because they all had needed him, or at least they'd needed his power, and he had known exactly want to say, what to do, to get them to take the bite.

It had all been so… _easy_. 

Scott had been the prize, and Jackson had been the anomaly. He had turned Jackson more out of curiosity.

It had been barely seven minutes after he had made the transition from Beta to full Alpha, when Jackson had showed up at his door demanding that Derek turn him. _Curiosity killed the cat_. Well, in his case, curiosity had created a Kanima. He had been a naïve lone wolf, a Beta playing games with Alpha toys. And in the end he had paid for it.

Scott spoke first. “Derek, we want you in with us.”

“Boyd and I came back for you. We should have never abandoned you in the first place. There was so much at stake,” Erica said.

Derek found himself nodding blindly. The world was swimming, and his eyes wouldn’t focus. He bit his lip. “I understand. I probably would have done the same thing to you.”

“We’ll be a better, stronger, pack. You only have to say yes,” Boyd said.

They were right. The second time around, he would know what to do, he would know how to lead, he would know how to protect. He would be a better Alpha. The threat was gone.  The Argents were no longer his enemy−

_“Don’t ever disappear on me again.”_

_Derek turned to the sound of Stiles’ voice, the hurt in it raw and unchecked._

_A heartbeat went by. Stiles watched him, his eyes searching, and Derek couldn’t look away._

_I knew I’d screw up at some point and hurt you. But I always thought that it be something you’d heal from, something that you wouldn’t carry around with you. Not like this, never this -_

_Derek’s grip tightened on the duffle bag, the last remains of his trip. The first opportunity he got, he was going to burn it.  “I’m here. “I’m not going to disappear," Derek vowed._

“Derek?” Scott’s voice.

Derek looked carefully at each of them, at Isaac, then Boyd, then Erica, and finally Scott.  They were all waiting for his answer.

“Derek?” They repeated. They all looked at each other

“I’m sorry…” Derek heard himself say. He stepped away from them, raising his hands in self-defence, protecting himself from all their earnest faces, protecting himself from his own pack instincts. “I can’t be part of this pack. I can’t be your Alpha… I can’t.”


	35. Chapter 35

_Bzzz_ zzz, the whole table vibrated as the cell phone signalled an incoming call. Stiles didn’t want to answer; a part of him already knew what was waiting for him on the other side of the line, and he dreaded the news

He sat at the edge of his bed, carefully folding his laundry. There was no way around it, at some point he knew he had to pick up the phone and find out the truth.

Stiles got to his feet, “Hey, Scott.”

“Stiles, I’m glad I caught you—”

“What did Derek say?”

“Derek said no,” Scott paused, “He was very clear on that–you should have seen him, he practically freaked out on us.”

Stiles sighed. “Erica and Boyd, what about them?”

“They want to stay for him, but I don’t think Derek is going to change his mind any time soon. And the sad part is they love him, old Beta-Alpha bonds…thank God I don’t have that to worry about.”

“And Jackson? Is he going to stay?”

Scott laughed, “Jackson is _still_ Jackson. He’s not exactly crying over it. He left as soon as Derek was gone. ”

“Well, at least we tried…Scott, what’s going to happen to him, to Derek I mean, is he going to become a Beta?”

Scott paused before he finally answered, “I don’t know.”

Stiles rubbed at his temples. “We need to talk to Deaton again—” Stiles’ phone vibrated and beeped, signifying a new incoming call. Stiles glanced at the screen; it was Derek. “I have to take this, Derek is on the other line...”

Scott chuckled dryly. “I get the picture.”

“Scott, wait, I might come by later.”

“Come by _come by_ or you want me to cover for you, if your dad calls my house again?”

Stiles shrugged, a useless gesture since Scott couldn’t see him. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Whatever man, just let me know as soon as you can.” Stiles and Scott said their goodbyes.

Stiles took Derek’s call. “Hey.”

“Meet me outside.” Derek said.

“Aren’t you coming up?”

“There’s something I want to show you first. Before you say anything I want you to know, I’m not backing out, and I’m not stalling.” Stiles glanced at his watch as Derek spoke and realised that it was 9.30PM. It was still early, early enough that his dad was still at the station. Knowing his dad, he wouldn’t be home for hours, which suited him just fine.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Stiles grabbed a paper bag and stuffed his remaining laundry inside. He found Derek standing across the street, leaning against the Camaro, the streetlight pooling around him. Stiles watched him for a moment. Even a few feet away, he could tell that Derek’s whole body was coiled tightly with tension. Derek’s face was drowned by shadow, save for two blood red beams of light, where his eyes should have been. 

When Derek saw Stiles approaching, he moved off the car and took a step towards him. Realising what he was doing, Derek stopped mid-step. He glanced over his shoulder and didn’t make a move to get any closer. “Stiles…” Derek’s voice caressed him like a touch, almost as tangible as the night air.

Stiles bowed his head and walked right into Derek arms, hugging him close. “Hey…”

Derek placed his chin against Stiles’ shoulder and hugged him back; The paper bag which Stiles carried crunched between their bodies. They pulled apart, staring at each other, Derek’s eyes wide and searching. A stretch of silence filled the space between them until it was broken by Stiles clearing his throat.

“I have something for you.” He handed the paper bag over to Derek. A questioning look passed over Derek’s face as he took the bag. He unfolded it and smiled as he realised what was inside it. His teeth glistened white in the near darkness. Derek lifted Stiles’ sheets and sniffed at them. “Your sheets... washed.”

“Yeah, dude, did you expect me to hand them over to you while they were still dirty? Okay…gross don’t answer that.” Stiles kicked an invisible rock and smiled back. “Do you have any other requests, maybe the clothes off my back?”

Derek studied the sheets. “I have never noticed that the print on them is of paper aeroplanes, very adorable.”

Stiles laughed. “Hearing you say ‘adorable’ is adorable.”

Derek rolled his eyes, his keys rattling softy as he turned toward the car door. He opened the door and tapped at it impatiently. Stiles gave him an exaggerated sigh. “And just when we’re having a moment, you have to ruin it with the eye-rolling. Stiles said teasing him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone that you’ve expanded your vocabulary beyond ‘shut’ and ‘up’. I wouldn’t want you to lose your street cred.” Stiles narrowed his shoulders as he went around the car. “Where’re we going this time?”

Derek’s voice came low and hoarse through the darkness, “We’re going to my old place.”

#### ***

Warm blood thrummed thrummed in Derek’s ears, making him dizzy. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his shoulders stiff with tension. He was aware of Stiles watching him. Derek relaxed his shoulders, forcing his body to appear less tense.  He glanced at Stiles.

 “We’re almost there,” he said. The car stopped at the edge of the woods, right where the road ended and the gravel began.  As Derek stepped out, Stiles followed closely behind. Their combined footfall was a hesitant march over the wet, cold ground. Derek stopped walking. For a moment they stood in silence, the sounds of the woods echoing all around them. He turned to Stiles. Stiles stared straight ahead.

 “Look, Derek,” he said, his voice colourless, “before you say anything, I want you to know, I know about Kate Argent.”

The air caught in Derek’s throat. _What?_ He was speechless, a wave of shame went through him. “What?” Derek whispered out loud. _Stiles knows_ , the words echoed in his mind. Was he dreaming? How was it even possible? Derek frowned—the ground was rising up to his face. A weightlessness overcame him. It was like that moment when you dive into a cold pool; for a split second you feel as light as air, right before the needles of cold, bite into you—a feeling which he knew so well. 

“Derek? What the hell?” Stiles crouched down beside him and reached for Derek’s shoulders, as he tried to hold him up. “What’s wrong?”

Derek braced his hands on the cold, hard ground. He was vaguely aware of Stiles pulling at his shoulders, trying to pull him up to no avail. When Stiles realised that Derek wasn’t going to let him, Stiles gave up and settled on the ground next to him. 

“I thought when the time finally came, I’d be the one to tell you,” Derek heard himself say. Stiles placed his hands over Derek’s shoulders. Against his better judgement Derek found himself leaning into Stiles’ touch, seeking the warmth and comfort that Stiles offered to him without thought, without reservation.

“It took me a while, but I figured it out, mostly because Allison shares everything with Scott—and Scott tells me. It was more or less a case of broken telephone, but it was enough. After a while, it wasn’t much of a challenge to figure out what Kate did to you.” Stiles shifted closer towards him. “I’m sorry, I kinda sprung the news on you like that. I honestly had no idea you’d react this way.” 

“This is where it all ended,” he said quietly.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably. “What are you talking about?”

“Six years ago, Laura and I sat on this very spot and watched as the coroners rolled out the bodies of my family. She held my hand. I remember how destroyed she was, yet she was comforting me. I felt nothing. She never said it, she never had to say it, but I knew that everything that had happened was my fault. If I had been less lonely, I would’ve seen through Kate’s lies. I let my guard down, and it resulted in the death of my family.” Derek clenched his jaw when he realised his voice was breaking.

“Derek, it’s over. In the end, Kate Argent got what she deserved.” the coldness in Stiles’ voice was chilling.

Derek turned his face to him. “Stiles, I don’t think you understand what you’re saying, and trust me, you _don’t_ mean that. When you take someone’s life, it weighs down on your soul. Whether that person was evil or not, their death breaks a part of you.” He got on his feet, and Stiles followed suit. “I couldn’t kill her, even when I wanted to. I couldn’t do it because a part of me was still in love with her. She took _everything_ from me, and I was still in love with her. Peter did the deed that night, not me. The Argents covered it up, so they could fix it themselves.”

“I always thought it was you…” Stiles frowned, “Then, why did you leave, if you didn’t kill her?”

“The reason I left had nothing to do with the Argents or the fire.”

“Tell me why? I need to know,” Stiles’ voice cracked. The sound punched into Derek’s gut, and he felt Stiles’ hurt like it was his own. He pulled Stiles into his arms. At first, Stiles resisted, but Derek held him tightly until he couldn’t move. Defeated, Stiles stopped struggling and wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders. He buried his face against Derek’s neck, his tears warm on Derek’s skin. _How could I’ve been so stupid?_ He hadn’t left Beacon Hills to protect Stiles. He had left to protect himself, because it was so much easier not to accept help from anyone. It was easier to be alone.

“Stiles, I’m sorry…” Derek said. He touched Stiles’ hair, moulding his body against Stiles’.  He wasn’t going to let Stiles go, even if it meant that they were going to have the rest of the conversation in this position; he was going to hold him through it all. Stiles didn’t make an attempt to pull away. Derek kept talking. “A few months ago, two Alphas came here to Beacon Hills. They challenged me and threatened my pack; they gave me an option to leave with them to kill of a rogue hunter who was turned. I agreed. That’s the reason I left. It wasn’t anything you said, or did. You didn’t push me away.”

 Stiles’ fingers tightened on Derek’s arm, but he didn’t say anything. It had never occurred to Derek that leaving like that would hurt Stiles. _Derek Hale,_ a _s smart as a bag of rocks and twice as charming_ , Derek thought. _One dick move after another_.  “While I was in Chicago, I found the hunter and killed him, but I knew that it wouldn’t end there. Once I did what the Alphas wanted, they would never let me walk away. So I came up with a plan. I stole a shipping container and filled all the inside panels with mountain ash. I lured them on to the docks to show them the body. When the Alphas stepped into the container, I closed the doors and trapped them inside.”

“The Alphas who came after you, who were they? Do you know where they came from or who sent them?” Stiles asked.

“I _still_ don’t know. The only thing I know for sure was that they were freshly minted Alphas.  Since there was no longer a Hale pack in Beacon Hills, it made it easy picking for any packs who wanted to expand their territory. When they came to me, they said they needed my help, but I knew that was a lie. I couldn’t think of them as people. As far as I was concerned they were my enemies and that was it. That’s what I told myself as I sank them.”

Stiles, who had been listening quietly for the most part, made an impressed sound. “You sank them in a shipping container?” He untangled himself from Derek’s arms.

Derek let him go. “Yes.”

“How’s that even possible?”

“Well Stiles, I’m not exactly human.”

A strange smile ran across Stiles’ face, “Oh God, I’m so relieved…”

“About what?”

“When you brought me up here and got all sombre and moody, practically fainting at my feet, I was beginning to think that you were going to tell me some morbid tale of how you eat kittens or something.”

Derek smiled back. “Kitten…no, but rabbits? Fair game.”

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice softened, “it’s pretty pointless to beat yourself up over what you did. It was self-defence, pure and simple, and don’t even get me started on—”

“If you want to call meticulously plotting three murders for four weeks self-defence…” Derek looked down at his hands, the events of that night still fresh in his mind.

“To be honest the only thing I really want to know is…would you have come back to Beacon Hills on your own, if I hadn’t gone to Chicago after you?”

“No.”

Stiles took a step back from him, “Wow, you didn’t even hesitate on that one.”

“Stiles, I didn’t know _how_ to come back. I didn’t know how to walk back into your life and pretend nothing had happened. What I did to that kid was murder. It was unforgivable. I had to shift to do it, and when I shift, I may be different, but I remember every fucking thing. I went into the deep end; I ripped him apart. I could have done it in human form…snapped his neck, clean, quick, and painless, but I chose not to—” Derek stopped speaking. He ran his hands roughly through his hair. “And that’s everything.”

“After all this time…that’s the big secret?” Stiles’ smile was forced, he was giving Derek a way out, and Derek took it. Derek stepped towards him, backing him against the Camaro. He angled Stiles neck back, exposing his throat to the cold night air. Derek buried his face into the hollow of Stiles’ neck, and he wrapped his arms around Stiles’ shoulders

“That’s the big secret,” Derek whispered.

“I think there’s more to ‘the big secret’ that you haven’t told me yet, but that’s okay, since I’m planning to beat it out you.”

He kissed Stiles’ neck. “Yeah? How do you figure?”

“I know that you want to be with me and not just in the biblical sense; in the crazy mate for life, werewolf sense.”

Derek smiled against the warmth of Stiles’ skin. “And…what makes you think that?”

“Because you tell me…well, not in words exactly.” Stiles sighed as Derek found his pulse point, and pressed his lips against it. “You tell me every single time we’re together. You tell me by the way you look at me...” Stiles let Derek back him against the hood of the car. “You tell me by the way you touch me...” Stiles turned his face and they kissed. “You told me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Derek said, as they pulled apart.

“Liar,” Stiles said as they got into the car. Derek started it, and they drove in silence, back to town with the windows pulled down, with Derek stealing glances at Stiles, the air between them still the same. Somehow, nothing had changed. Derek had told Stiles all his secrets: the territorial fights in New York, his history with the Argents. Through all of it Stiles had hardly blinked. Stiles knew what pain was; he didn’t need Derek’s protection. It had been there all along _. How could I have missed it?_

 “Do you still want me to take you home?” Derek asked.

“Not tonight.”

 

#### ***

In the longempty hallway of Derek’s loft, they stumbled towards the door, half-kissing, half-dragging each other. Every sound they made echoed through the dark. They sounded like some drunken couple coming back from a party. _It’s a good thing nobody else lives in this building_. Derek fumbled in his pockets for the keys until he found them. He then felt around for the latch, unlocking it blindly and backing into the door to push it open. He managed to do all this while Stiles was still kissing his neck. Derek used only one arm to pull him closer. He led Stiles towards the bed.

They fell backwards on it, a tangle of limbs Derek smiled up at Stiles and pulled him down into a messy kiss, as Stiles settled between his knees. Stiles’ fingers tangled tightly on Derek’s hair, his breath warm and sweet, against Derek’s neck. Derek swallowed down a moan as his cock twitched and began to harden. He lifted up his hips off the bed, rubbing up against Stiles’ crotch, trying to gain some friction, to dull the ache.

Stiles pressed his forehead against Derek’s, using him as leverage to sit up, his elbows digging into Derek’s chest.  “Sorry, I’ve got very bony joints.” Stiles sighed as he shifted his weight.

“You don’t hear me complaining, I don’t mind.” Derek said. He brushed down the fine hairs on the back of Stiles neck. “Stiles, you’re so strong, you’re the strongest person I know.”

Stiles scoffed back laughter, “Mmm I’m…sorry, I’m _what now_?”

Derek looked down at his hands; he tried to form the words in his mind. His thoughts were always so clear in his head. When he voiced his thoughts, sometimes his words came out so stilted. “I mean, I’m strong, I have been my whole life, but I’ve never felt it—I’ve never _felt_ strong. With you, there’s this strength you have, I honesty have no idea where it comes from.  It drew me to you from the start, I couldn’t resist it.”

Stiles’ eyes flickered over Derek’s body. He poked Derek in the ribs. “Feels pretty strong to me.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist and rolled him onto his back. He crawled on top of him. His mouth found Stiles’. Stiles accepted Derek’s weight on top of him, but he didn’t make a move to take things further. His hands gripped tightly around the back of Derek’s neck. Derek sighed. It was strangely comforting, a return to innocence. It reminded Derek of the brief time when they used to sleep together, when they could spend hours on Stiles’ bed making out. It was safe, warm, and perfect. Derek gazed down at Stile’s face. “Do you ever think that we kinda rushed things in the beginning?”

“What do you mean?”

“We used to only kiss at first and don’t get me wrong, I liked it and—”

“Oh you’re worried that we jumped from first base to third too early in the game? Well…” Stiles let his hands fall and trailed them over Derek’s chest. He favoured Derek with a wink. “It’s not like we had a second base to work with.”

“I like kissing you.” Derek’s hands closed around Stiles’ wrist. He dipped his head and kissed the hollow of Stiles’ neck to demonstrate. “I like going down on you, and I like being with you—”

“Is that your PG way of saying you like fucking me?” 

“ _Stiles_ …” Derek released Stiles’ hand as he crinkled up his nose.

“Ha ha, made you blush,” Stiles said, satisfied. Derek pulled Stiles by the scruff of his neck into another kiss. Stiles’ arms closed around Derek’s shoulders as he fitted their chests together. They were still kissing when Stiles’ stomach started making growling noises.

 “Derek, if you want to fuck me, you’re going to have to feed me first.” Stiles said.

“Okay, that’s it; I’m getting you something to eat.”  Derek sprang up and swung his legs over the bed. “ _Darn it_ , Stiles, you should have told me that’s all it takes. I would have ordered pizza for you, like, an hour ago. Or maybe you prefer something else? I know that your dad sometimes orders that or you, but I not sure if they will deliver to this part of town.” Derek dug for his wallet. “If they don’t deliver to this part of town, I can drive to the nearest place, or I can even run there and back—”

“Dude, you’re babbling.”

Derek smiled at the irony; he tossed his wallet onto the bed. “Okay, I rest my case. tell me what do you want?”  He asked as he led Stiles in the small dark kitchen.

“I’ll have whatever you’ve got.”  Stiles pulled the fridge door open. “So, what do we have here…hey this is strange…and it looks very familiar. Dude, I swear you’ve got almost exactly what I have back at home.” He glanced up at Derek.

“I kinda replicated my freezer to what you have at your house.  It’s stupid. I figured when you’re here you can have what you like.”

Stiles closed the door. “And when did you go to my house to memorise the entire fridge contents?”

“I did this when you were at school and your dad was at the station.” Derek said. It had been after his talk with Argent. It had left him restless. So he’d decided to try and clean up—an attempt at making the loft more accommodating.  He decided not to patch the hole he had created in the wall. Instead he cleared out a few remaining bricks to make the shape look less: I-just-put-my-fist-through-the-wall and more this-is-an-alternative-doorway’.

After that, Derek had realised that he had no idea where to begin. So he’d gone to the Stilinski house to think. While he was there, he’d realised that he needed to get food and fill up his fridge or something. He’d looked in the Stilinki’s fridge for ideas and getting every single item that he’d seen seemed like a good idea at the time.

Stiles studied Derek’s face. “So…you go to my house when I’m not there? That’s a shocker. ”

“When you put it like that, you make it sound creepy.”

Stiles laughed. “Dude, it’s only creepy if you’re going to my house to go through my stuff. Which you haven’t—right?”

“Stiles, I didn’t go through your stuff… Well…I used to go to your house just to sleep, and that’s all.” Derek was suddenly aware of the lack of chairs in the tiny kitchen.

“Oh,” Stiles glanced at the counter top, “I just have a hot pocket. That’s what my dad usually makes me. Best microwave meal ever, throw in some wedges and _hey presto_.” He hesitated by the container, as he watched Derek fiddling with the microwave.  “Do you want me to help?”

“Turning a dial?” Derek favoured him with a sarcastic smile. He twitched his eyebrows at him. “Nah…I think I’ve got it.”

Stiles bit back his own smile. “Show me a guy with frozen pepperoni hot pocket , and I’ll show you the Beacon Hills’ first Naked Chef.” A few minutes later, Derek came in with two white plastic plates. He handed Stiles a pepperoni hot pocket.

“Careful, it’s hot.” Derek carefully folded a paper towel into a makeshift napkin. Stiles blew away the steam and took a bite; he closed his eyes and savoured the sticky sweet and sour flavour of the cheese and bread.

“God, this tastes so freaking awesome.” He took another big bite.  “Dude, marry me?”

“Stiles…”

“Huh?” Derek ran the pad of his thumb over Stiles’ chin, clearing the sticky dripping sauce. Derek brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it away.

“If you ever learn to chew with your mouth closed, maybe one day I will.”

Stiles grinned at him, through a mouthful of food. “Touché.”

 

#### ***

It was an old brown leather wallet, the kind that they don’t make anymore. It had an inscription on the front that was too faded to read, probably the logo of the manufacturing company or what not, hell if he know. Stiles had been unlacing his sneakers when he realised the uncomfortable thing that he was sitting on was a wallet—Derek’s actual wallet.

Stiles glanced across the room. Derek was nowhere in sight. “Stiles, it’s rude to go through people’s things,” he mumbled under his breath, imitating his father. “Well, Dad you shouldn’t have raised me to have an inquiring mind.” _You didn’t get it from me_ , his father always insisted. _Inquiring minds need to know_ , Stiles thought as he carefully went through the contents of Derek’s wallet. He found Derek’s driver’s licence, a few brand new ATM-fresh bills, a VISA card, and a wrinkled, faded photo. Stiles studied it; he didn’t bother to hide what he was doing as Derek walked into the room and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Who’s this?” Stiles said as he held up the photo.

Derek blinked. “That was my sister.”

Stiles studied the image. “Who’s that next to her?”

“That’s me.”

“Dude, you use to look like Hilary Swank in _Boys Don’t Cry_.”

“Ha ha,” Derek said as he leaned over the bed and he poked Stiles in the ribs.

“Ouch, dude that’s a major no-no.” Stiles lifted up his shirt and studied his ribs. “It hurts a lot, if the bones are close to the skin.” He knew he was over-playing the pain up, but a part of him wanted to distract Derek from the fact that he had been snooping.

Derek wasn’t buying the bullshit. “You started it,” he muttered as he leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, “Stiles…” he began, “were you being serious when you said you wanted to spend the night?”

 _Oh right, Mr Play-It-Cool when there’s no more cool left_. Stiles smiled and reclined back, following Derek’s lead, “Like I said: food first and then you can get into my pants.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“ _That’s_ an answer.”

Derek sneaked a glance at him, “Let’s try this again, but this time there will be no backtalk or smart-alec remarks. Okay? Stiles, do you want to spend the night…with me?” Stiles would’ve rolled his eyes but the sincerity in Derek’s voice caught him off guard. Derek sounded like he honestly didn’t know whether Stiles wanted to be there with him. _Why wouldn’t I want to be here?_

“Yes!” Stiles said, and because he couldn’t help it, he added: “Do you want me to say it in _Klingon_?”

Derek groaned and threw a pillow at him. “Why are you teasing me?”

“I’m not—if I was, you wouldn’t need to ask.” Stiles rolled onto his back and looked at his watch. It was ten thirty—he sat up suddenly. His dad would be home by now. “I lost track of time, I need to call my dad before—”

“What time does your dad leave the Sheriff’s Office?”

“It varies, but most nights, I feel like my dad does a lot more work at the station than he should, just to distract himself. When I was a kid I use to think he spent so much time there and worked as much as he did…just to avoid me.” Stiles looked down when he realised he had said more than he had intended He gave Derek his best disarming smile. “As I got older, I realised not everything is about me. The rude awakening of 2003.”

Derek nodded silently; if he was uncomfortable with what Stiles had revealed to him, Derek didn’t show it. Stiles smiled to himself, because Derek Hale was cool like that.

Stiles went to the corner of the room and dialled his Dad’s number.

On the second ring, Dad answered, “Stiles, where are you?”

“Oh hi Dad, I’m at Scott’s house, and I’m just calling to tell you that I’m spending the night here…again—”

“Stiles, are you sure that you’re at Scott’s?”

Stiles smiled at the patronising tone in his father’s voice. “Yes, Dad, I am—where else would I be on a Friday night?” He glanced at Derek. “Scott is standing right here in front of me. Do you want to talk to him?” He held out the phone to Derek.

Derek frowned at him and stared at the phone as if it was a live wire being waved in front of his face. He inched away from Stiles. Stiles smiled at the ridiculousness of it all. His phone beeped in his hand, signifying an incoming call, he cancelled the call without checking the number. He glanced back at Derek and realised that Derek was carefully dressing the bed with the bed sheets Stiles had given him.

“Stiles, I’m going to ask you again, _are you sure_ you’re at Scott’s house this very moment? Scott McCall?”

“Which other Scott’s house would I be at? Do you know another Scott McCall?”

“Stiles, just answer the question.”

“Dad, I’m standing in the living room with him right now!” The lie came out as easily as all the other lies before that. “Do you want me to text a photo of Scott’s living room as proof?” This was not a problem; he kept a series of photos of Scott’s living room in his phone—a neat trick he had gotten from a movie.

Over the line, his dad sighed. “Then Son, you must be invisible, since I’m also standing in the same damn living room, and I can’t see you.”

 _Oh shit_.  “Dad, I can explain—”

“Don’t. Stiles, just don’t. You _know_ how much I hate it when you lie you me. I can take everything else. But the lies kill me. ” Dad took a deep breath. “I’m going to try this one more time. Stiles, where _the hell_ are you?”

“I’m in town.” At least that part was true.

There was a long pause, then an even longer sigh. “Are you with the Hale kid?”

 _Wait what? What Hale kid? What the Hale are you talking about?_ _Kid?! Dad, have you seen Derek Hale lately?  
He is hardly a kid… _ And the list went on; those were possible number of lies, half-truths, deflections he could have said to his dad at that moment. For the first time since Stiles started speaking— _You came out speaking_ , his parent use to kid. _You just wouldn’t shut up—_ Stiles didn’t know what to say. He took a deep breath and told his dad the truth. “Yes, I’m with Derek Hale.” The saving grace about telling Dad about Derek over the phone was that he was unable to see any of the disappointment or anger in his father’s eyes. Stiles glanced at Derek. “I’m spending the night.” 

Dad gave him another weary sigh. “I see.”

Was it: _I see you’ve been exploring your sexuality…while I was at work, making a living so I can send your sorry ass to college._ Or was it: _I see you got over Lydia Martin. I guess my ‘What is my son up to’ newsletter got lost in the mail._ Or: _I see you’re a liar._ Maybe: _I see my son has been victimised by a predator. What did I do wrong as a parent? Is it the fact I work too much?_ Or: _I see, Stiles, if you’re into guys why the hell aren’t you with Scott or Danny instead?_ Stiles held his breath and exhaled, he felt lightheaded. He had run out of possible scenarios. “Dad, please say something…” He was ready to jump in at the deep end.  _You know me. I’m still the son you raised. That’s why I need you to trust me._

Dad’s voice was chillingly calm. “Stiles, I’ll seeyou at home tomorrow at 8.00AM sharp, and we’ll talk then, do you understand me?”

Stiles took a shallow breath. “Yes, Sir.”

Dad laughed drily. “Wow, a simple yes? No ‘buts’ or backtalk? Finally, I’m making progress with you.”

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“If I ever doubted you about this, I have to put it out there. You’re really are a cop. A cop’s cop, the way some actors are actors’ actors, do you know what I mean?  Dad, you’re the quintessential leading man in cops.”

Dad laughed again, with genuine humour this time. “Don’t get cute with me kid. Stop blowing smoke up my ass; I’m still mad at you.”

The line clicked, and it was over.

“What just happened?” Stiles stared at his cell phone. “What the hell was that?”

Derek jumped to his feet. “Stiles, grab your stuff. I’m taking you home, right now.”

“Derek, wait.” Stiles pulled his arm away, annoyed at the tone of Derek’s voice. _You can’t plough me through a mattress and still want to treat me like a child. You can’t fucking have it both ways._ “I want to stay; you want me to stay—Derek, it makes absolutely no sense for you to take me home right now. I’m already in trouble, and my dad is expecting me tomorrow morning.  We can either not fuck, and you drive me home right now, or we can _still fuck_ and you drive me home tomorrow.  Either way, _I’m still in trouble_. ”

“Is that what you want?”

“Derek, you heard him; he’s expecting me back home tomorrow.”

Derek ran a hand through his hair, thinking out loud, “I don’t understand. Why would your dad even let you stay here…with me?”

Stiles sat down on the edge of the bed. “Hell, if I know.” He placed his cell phone on the small table next to the bed.

“Stiles, do you know what he’ll do or say tomorrow?”

“My dad is not the grounding type or the shouting type, if that’s what you’re asking, and he has never been violent. My dad is a let-him-see-the-error-of-his-ways type. Last summer when he caught me smoking, he didn’t even react—”

“I can’t imagine you smoking.”

“You’re interrupting me… Scott was away visiting his dad, and I started hanging out with Isaac.”

“Isaac? My Beta, Isaac Lahey?”

“Yes, Isaac your _former_ Beta.” Stiles said. “Mr Lahey—long before the Kanima killed him, and when he wasn’t beating on Isaac—liked to parade around as a regular sports lovin’ dad. And one of his activities involved touch football. He played with my dad on weekends, which led to Isaac and me hanging out. Which led to some ill-fated truth or dare, you get the picture…”

Derek made a face. “ _Please_ , don’t tell me you guys fooled around.”

“Dude, get your mind out of the gutter. I was like in love with Lydia back then, and Isaac is so not my type… I’m not into guys who are twitchy…” Stiles’ voice trailed off.

Derek tapped his knee. “What kind of guys are you into then?”

“I like the brooding, hot, way older than me, way out of my league type.”

Derek couldn’t help it, he smiled. “Brooding and hot, huh?”

“Oh man, do you know any? Maybe you can hook me up?”

“In fact, I don’t.”

“Bummer, in that case, I’ll have to settle for you”

“Lucky me.” Derek dragged him into a deep kiss in reply, before he pulled away, running his thumb over Stiles lips.

Stiles sighed. “You have to stop, or I’m going to lose my train of thought…again,” he said against Derek’s lips, Stiles pulled back and continued, “When my dad caught me smoking, he was calm. He didn’t raise his voice. He took me home and told me that the next day I was going to start working with him every morning. I thought he wanted some father-son bonding, but it was only when I was mopping up all of the floors in the Sheriff’s Department that I realised I was being punished. I did that every day for three weeks.  What sucked the most was it was my first summer vacation as a high schooler, and I spent most of it with my Dad. Eventually he made me clean up the cold case room.” Stiles paused. “Technically, I kinda knew you, before you knew me.”

“What do you mean?” Derek stopped speaking as it dawned on him. “You found the case files about the Hale fire in the Cold Case room.”

 “Yes,” Stiles said, “I kinda read them… Most of the files, didn’t make much sense to me at the time.”

“What did the files say?”

“There were a bunch of photos of all the…the Hales who died, very distinctive features, I might say. There were also photos of the house and a report from the Fire Marshal ruling that the fire was an accident, ‘electrical failure’ it stated.” Stiles took a deep breath. “When Scott asked me to go with him to find his inhaler, I realized that you where Derek Hale from all the files I had seen.”

“I remember that day; it was the first time I ever saw you.”

“Oh really,” Stiles shifted closer towards him. “What did you think?”

“I thought to myself…” Derek smiled recalling the memory. “Stupid kids... Then everything changed when I realised that Scott had been bitten. I could smell it on him, and I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. Every time I tried, it always felt like I was making things worse than they were before.”

Stiles touched his arm. “There was also a file on Kate Argent. It didn’t make sense to me at the time, but later when you left for Chicago, I started to put the pieces together.” 

“How come you’ve never told me that you were friends with Isaac before?”

“There wasn’t anything to tell. We hung out for like two weeks when I was fifteen. When Scott came back I stopped hanging out with him, end of story.”

The look on Derek’s face said it all, yet it revealed nothing. Derek’s eyebrows crunched up together into a frown—that pinched expression that he always gave Stiles whenever he was displeased.  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Stiles asked.

Derek sighed, and sunk back. “Sometimes you can be so cold.”

 

#### ***

“Then, warm me up,” Stiles whispered, reaching for Derek’s hands.

 _That’s not what I meant, and you know it_ , Derek pulled Stiles into his arms. He worked off the t-shirt. He unbuckled his pants with one hand, slipping off the belt in on smooth motion. He could feel Stiles’ fingers crawling up his abs.

“Take your clothes off,” Derek urged him.

“I will, only if you turn the lights off,” Stiles said.

“I’ve seen you naked before.”

“So?”

“And… I can see in the dark.”

“Totally unfair werewolf advantages,” Stiles mumbled to himself as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. He kicked off his sneakers and jeans and rolled onto his back. Finally naked, he stared up at Derek, “There. Satisfied?”

“Not by a long shot.” Derek kicked his own jeans off and moved over Stile’s body, rubbing his hard cock against Stiles’ warm skin. Stiles’ legs spread around him. Derek’s hand found Stiles’ cock. He stroked the velvet smooth head, smearing pre-come all over his fingers.  He pressed his lips against Stiles’ ear. “What do you want?”

Stiles encircled Derek’s waist with one hand as the other reached between Derek’s legs, “I want your cock in me.” Stiles said it so candidly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You never mince your words, do you?” Derek blushed.

“No—” Stiles gasped as he felt Derek’s slicked finger pushing inside him. “I try not to. It’s a complete waste of time if you ask me…” He gasped again. “Euphuisms…what are euphuisms? They are for polite people, people who like to cushion their punches, not me.” Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder as he started bucking up into Derek’s fingers, begging for more.  Stiles’ lips brushed against Derek’s skin, his teeth sunk in.

“Stiles…” a shudder went through Derek. He was acutely aware of how much he wanted to bury his cock inside Stiles. Derek groaned and slipped a seconded finger inside him, pushing the head of his cock against Stiles’ thigh. With his free hand, Derek turned Stiles’ face towards his. They traded sloppy wet kisses, all tongue and clanking teeth, their bodies’ moving against each other. Stiles captured Derek’s bottom lip between his teeth, only letting go when Derek pulled back, fumbling blindly for the lubricated condoms he kept in his jeans pocket. “You like to bite. I actually feel sorry for the next person who has sex with you—at least I can take it.”

“You love it.”

“I bite back.”

“Prove it.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Stiles sat up, reaching for him, his fingers closing around Derek’s hand, taking the condom from him. He frowned at the small foil packet, as if he didn’t know what it was. They had been his idea, after all.

“Derek…” Stiles sounded drowsy.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to…bareback?”

Derek sat back on his heels, his mouth falling open. “What?” 

“Oh my God, you should see your face right now.”

“We can’t change something we’ve decided on…and…” Derek said, acutely aware that he was stumbling over his word, barely making any sense to himself or Stiles. Derek stopped speaking and took a deep breath. “I told you I don’t want to turn you,” he said with all the conviction the he could master.

“Deaton confirmed that’s not how it works. We literally have nothing to lose.”

“Deaton? Youtalked to Deaton about _us_?” Derek shook his head in dismay. The idea that someone from his past knew personal details about his relationship with Stiles unnerved him—And Deaton was… unnerving.  As a child, what little Derek had glimpsed of his pack family meetings, Deaton had always been an ever-looming human presence amongst the wolves. Deaton had been a constant figure in the background. A human who seemed to know more about them than they knew about themselves.

 “Well not really, Scott did most of the talking. I was the _impartial_ third party, pretending not to have any vested interest in the matter.”

“Scott was there as well? Stiles—”

“Derek, chill, I didn’t mention you or us or anything about us.”

Derek went silent. “Stiles, do you always have to make a joke out of everything?”

“Look, if I had known you’d react this way, I wouldn’t have said anything. Derek, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me tomorrow; for all I know my dad could be planning t0 ship me off to military school. If something like that happens, I don’t ever want to wonder about us…”

Derek reached for Stiles’ arm. “Stiles, will you be _pack_ with me if I say yes, if I do what you want?”

Stiles laughed nervously. “Is that werewolf for ‘ _I want a commitment’?_ If you wanted to say something you’re going to have to try English, I don’t really understand werewolf…or silence…or frowns, or grunts.”

“I’m being serious. Will you be pack with me, afterwards? I need to know this, I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.” Derek lowered his voice when he realised how strained he sounded.

Stiles’ frowned, “I mean… how would that even work? Will you be my Alpha or something?”

“You’d be my equal.” Derek pulled him close, “You’ve always been my equal.” Derek kissed his neck. _You have no idea how much I want this._

“I’ll tell you in the morning.” Stiles pushed Derek on his back, straddling him, the length of Derek cock pressing up against Stiles’ ass. “So how about it?” Stiles leaned over and kissed the hallow of Derek’s neck. “Do you…” His hands trailed over Derek’s torso, “want to…” The muscles twitched underneath his fingertips as Derek took a sharp intake of breath. “fuck me. Or what?”

Derek looked up at Stiles. “I’m not going to be able to say no to you, am I?”

Stiles laughed. “Oh please, don’t act like you’ve never thought about it.” He bounced his body on Derek, deliberately grinding down against Derek’s cock. A sly smile spread across his face. “Did you ever dream about me when you were gone?”

Derek reached for Stiles’ hand, letting their fingers interlace. “Stiles, I pretty much kept myself from sleeping most of the time.” He squeezed Stiles hand. “Why do you ask?”

 “I’ve had my fair share…well probably more than my fair share of wet dreams, but right after you left, when we weren’t together anymore, I started dreaming about you…frequently. Oh man those dreams were messed up…”

“Messed up?” Derek’s breath hitched as Stiles continued to rub against him. “Do I even want to know?”

Stiles sighed, his voice almost drowsy as he recounted the memories, “We were always fucking in the woods… After a while I figured out that my subconscious was trying to tell me something.”

“Which is?”

“You already treated me like I was yours; you already considered me pack, in some weird way, which I don’t understand since you have Scott and Isaac, and I’m the human in the middle of it all.”

Stiles kissed him, and Derek returned his kiss with the same sweet desperation and lust. He rolled Stiles onto his back, his fingers tracing lines down Stiles’ body. Human or not, he wanted Stiles as pack. _You’re it for me. I could never be with anyone else after this. You’re it._ The words flooded his thoughts, but he bit them back, locking them away. Stiles took Derek’s hand leading it to his cock, Derek watched, fascinated, his fingers smearing the pre-come that had gathered at the tip.

“I don’t want to think anymore.” Stiles moved against Derek’s hand. Stiles buried his face in the space between Derek’s neck and shoulder. Derek wasn’t aware that he had lifted Stiles up, until Stiles legs were wrapping around his waist. Derek carefully rolled them around, until he was half kneeling on the bed as Stiles leaned back onto his elbows, he looked up at Derek and gave him a knowing smile and spread his legs around Derek, like an invitation… or a challenge. Whichever it was, Derek didn’t know—didn’t _want_ to know. All Derek could do was stare, all slacked-jawed, drinking in the scent, the sight of him. 

Stiles’ body was all sharp angles and lines, from his thin long legs, to the peaks of this hipbones, down to his cock, laying hard against his abdomen, the tip wet and glistening, a small pool of pre-come gathering at his  navel. His eyes were drawn down to the dark hair over his groin. This lithe body, so different from Derek’s own, was all for him. Stiles’ position may have been passive, submissive even, but Derek was completely at his mercy.  Stiles’ smile widened as he watched Derek. _He knows it,_ Derek realised. A groan erupted from deep inside Derek’s throat as he covered Stiles’ body with his own. Derek slid down the length of his body, cupping Stiles’ cock between his hands.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Derek asked. Stiles moaned, his hips lifting towards Derek’s face. And that was all the answer that Derek needed. He opened his mouth, taking in the head and suck at it—gently at first. His free hand moving up and down Stiles’ thigh, until it moved under, his fingers lightly tingling the sensitive spot at the back of Stiles’ balls. He withdrew Stile’s cock from his mouth to lick up the length of it and stole a glance at Stiles face. Stiles eyes were closed, a sheen of sweat had gathered above his lips. He hands were balled up into fist around the sheets, those ridiculous powder blue sheets with paper aeroplanes all over them, probably the same pair Stiles has had since he was a child.

“You taste perfect.” Derek whispered, licking the pre-come and spit that now coated Stiles’ cock, “I could do this every day, every night, if you wanted me to…”

Stiles gave him a strained smile. “Don’t put ideas into my head,” His fingers tightened around Derek’s head. “Oh God… please don’t stop.”

Derek smiled, satisfied at that. He lowered his head and took more of him in. Stiles was close, Derek could taste it, the salt taste of his pre-come now more concentrated at the tip.

Stiles’ hand moved down to Derek’s head and rested there. Derek smiled and closed his hands over Stiles’.  Derek squeezed them. _Yes, show me, show me how you want it._ Stiles’ fingers tangled in Derek’s hair, his grip tightening. Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand. _Show me_. Stiles began to thrust, gently at first, pulling Derek’s head into the movement, his hips lifting off the bed, fucking into Derek’s mouth. “Derek….please,” Stiles moaned,  “You’re going to make me come.”

Derek moved his head with the motion as he closed his lips over his teeth and sucked Stiles’ cock, taking him deeper. He held his breath as he became acutely aware of his own cock dragging against the sheets. Derek pressed his groin against the sheets, rubbing the sensitive head of his cock against them, not hard enough to make himself come, just enough to dull the ache.

Stiles fingers’ bunched up into a fist in Derek’s hair. He gasped and came, his come filling Derek’s mouth. Derek swallowed it as he looked up at him. Stiles opened his eyes and smiled.

“A blowjob for the record books,” he said, his eyes shining with laughter.

Derek returned his smile.

“Come here,” Stiles said reaching for him.

Derek moved up until they were eye level. Stiles brushed his lips against Derek face, “You caught some on your chin,” Stiles said, kissing the remnants of himself.

Derek grinned. “I don’t mind.”

“I do.” He kissed Derek’s jawline, accompanied by the sound of the lube bottle clicking open.

Derek sighed as Stiles’ lubricated hands closed around his cock, slicking it up as they guiding it towards his entrance. Derek braced his weight on one hand mere inches away from penetration. If Stiles only wanted sex from him, he’d provide it. Derek leaned over him, grazing his lips over Stiles’ jaw.

“Why are you frowning like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking; no more thinking. It’s killing me; it’s killing us _…_ Just fuck me already, and you’ll have the rest of your life to think, can you do that?”

Derek thrust deep into him in reply.

Stiles flinched, his fingers, digging into Derek’s back, pulling him closer, until their chests were fitted against each other Each drag of Derek’s cock inciting a gasp out of him. “Oh god.” The balls of Stiles’ feet pressed hard against Derek’s thighs, urging him deeper. They moved against each other, Stiles’ cock, hard and wet between them, “Derek… Derek…” Stiles said his name like it was the only word he could remember, then he moaned out something that sound like please and Derek’s name.

Stiles sounded so desperate, so fucking needy, it shouldn’t have turned Derek on, but it did. Derek closed the space between their lips to silence him.  They traded sloppy wet kisses, until Stiles’ teeth sank into Derek’s lips. A flash of pain and pleasure went through Derek’s body. He lifted Stiles’ shoulders, until their chests were pressed together and there was nothing between them, except sweat.

“Stiles…” he moaned against Stiles’ lips, vaguely aware of Stiles’ hands clawing up his shoulders until they bunched up in his hair and pulled at it. Derek slipped out of him. Stiles turned them around and settled on top of Derek’s thighs, hovering over Derek’s cock, teasing him, dipping his head, placing half kisses, half bites up Derek’s chest.  Derek arched under him, fighting the urge to pull him down. “You’re evil, do you know that?”

 “Guess where I learned that?” Stiles let out a low laugh, his breathe warm against Derek’s chest. His arms closed around   Derek shoulders, holding him close as his slowly sunk down on to Derek’s cock. “I learned from the _fucking_ best.” Derek held his breath and bit back a howl, his hands clawing at the sheets around him. Stiles rocked down on him, his eyes tightly closed, moaning out Derek’s name with each movement, lifting up onto his knees and sinking back again. Derek’s hands bunched into fists until he couldn’t resist anymore. He reached for Stiles. Teeth aching to…

Stiles yelped, and pulled away.

“Did I nick you?” Derek stilled immediately. He tried not to let the panic seep in.

Stiles shook his head, dropping his head back down, his eyes dark with lust. He pushed Derek back down onto the bed, using Derek’s shoulders as leverage. Stiles ground hard and slow, up and down on Derek’s cock, fucking himself, moving with a pornographic ease, which belied the fact that he had been a virgin and half a child _less_ than six months ago—Stiles had taken to sex with the as of a plant to sunlight. Derek wanted to squeeze his eyes shut. It was suddenly all too much to take in. But he couldn’t. 

“I’m not even going to…justify that question with an answer…” Stiles said with a mocking smile. “Oh fuck…I’m so close,” Siles dropped his head against Derek’s chest and came for the second time. He rested there for a moment, his breath coming in sharp little gasps. Derek kissed Stiles neck, as he realised how close he also was. He couldn’t hold back anymore; he let out a choked cry and came, caressing Stiles’ back as he slowly lifted him up, sliding effortlessly out of him.

Stiles collapsed beside him and smiled. _Like leaves to sunlight_ , Derek thought.

 

#### ***

A good dose of fresh air would clear his head, Derek knew.  Heavens knows he needed it. A lungful of chilly January air was what he needed in his lungs. He bent over as he laced up his Nike Airs. It was still dark out; soon he’d be out in the streets, pound the pavement, running from demons only he could see. Running in the streets of Beacon Hills was different to running in the woods. The woods were freeing in the sense that under the cover of thick trees and foliage he could just unleash and run. The streets were flat, the scene unchanging, and providing less resistance. At 6.00AM, the streets would be mostly empty, and that suited him just fine. He pulled the shoelace strings tightly into place.

Stiles shifted on the bed, yawned, and rolled over. “Where are you going?”

“I thought you were asleep.” Derek raised his head and turned to him. “I’m going for a run.”

Stiles sat up. “Come back to bed, I promise I’ll give you a workout.”

Derek smiled as he sat down on the bed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Derek licked two fingers, his index and middle finger and snaked his hands under the sheet and found Stiles’ thighs, his hands moved even further, they both gasped as Derek’s fingers effortlessly slipped in. Stiles bit down on his lips and reclined on his back. Derek pushed his fingers further into him. Stiles winced. “You’re still sore?”

 “Nothing I can’t handle.” Stiles pushed back onto Derek’s fingers. Derek crawled into the bed and joined him, He kicked off his sneakers and settled behind Stiles, spooning him. He buried his face into the crook of Stiles’ shoulder and neck and settled in against Stiles’ body.

Stiles pushed his ass back against Derek’s crotch. “Is that an Oscar in your shorts, or are you just happy to see me?”

Derek grinned in the dark, “Just happy to hold you.”

Reaching for Derek in the dark, Stiles half turned his shoulders around. “Let me…” His hands found the front of Derek’s shorts, and he pulled down the waist band and grasped Derek’s cock.

 “I can take of it myself,” Derek said, rolling onto his back as he pulled the sheet all the way down, revealing Stiles naked body underneath. “Just lay there.” He straddled Stiles hips and pulled his cock over the edge of his waist band, his eyes burning red as he stared down at Stiles. “Please… Just lay… like that.” He started stroking himself, resting his head down on Stiles chest, putting on a show for Stiles. Stiles peered down between their bodies, watching Derek’s hand working his cock. Stiles’ hands closed around Derek’s wrist, guiding him more than actually helping him.

“Stiles…” Derek heard himself moan. Stiles looked up to meet Derek’s eyes.

And that’s all it took.  Derek let out a groan, squeezing the head of his cock, and came. Stiles fingers rubbed together, savouring the texture of Derek. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking off the remnants of Derek’s come.

 “You’re way saltier than me.” Stiles said.

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll take your word for it.” Derek smiled at that.

“Since its ‘confession night’, I should probably make a confession of my own.”

“What now?”

“I didn’t hang the moon.”

“What?”

“I didn’t hang the moon, so you can quit treating me like I did.”

Derek laughed. “Stiles Stilinski didn’t hang the moon. Got it.”

“Do you want that on a plaque?”

“I’ll pass—I’ll do my best to remember.”

“Good.”

Derek tucked himself back into his shorts and moved off Stiles. “It’s nice having you here.”

“I don’t think my dad’s going to agree with you.”

“Aren’t you scared of what’s going to happen with your dad in the morning?”

“No, I trust my dad. He has never given me a reason not to. I’m just going to tell him everything. It’s the least I could do.”

“When you say, ‘everything’ you mean, _everything_. About me, about Scott and Peter and what’s being going on in Beacon Hills since they found my sister’s body in the woods, and how I got arrested for murder? Just to be clear.”

“I kinda told Ms Morrell—my guidance counsellor—about the werewolves and… about us. The least I could do is tell my dad. I think that secrets are what’s been keeping us apart. I actually felt relieved when he confronted me. I won’t lie, there was a part of me that was scared shitless, but I still felt relief. There was a moment when I thought: _He knows; thank God, I don’t have to lie to him anymore._ I was planning to tell him about us… when the time was right.”

“When were you planning to do it?”

“Probably when I turned eighteen…or thirty.”

“I’m flattered and amused that you think we’ll still be together when you turn thirty,” Derek said. He meant it as a joke, but there was an edge to his voice.

Stiles reached for him. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I’ve wanted to be with you before I even knew what it was or what to call it. So yes, I’ll be ‘pack’ with you—whatever that means.  But we can’t keep things from each other, that’s the fast way to screw things up. I’m not saying that we have to tell each other everything, just the big, important-ish stuff. Could you do that for me?”

 “I have no more secrets left to tell.”

“Good, anyway you’re lousy at keeping secrets—especially from me.” Stiles rolled onto his side to face him. “It’s going to be okay.” He leaned forward and kissed Derek on his forehead.

“Stiles, for as long as you want me, however you want me, I’ll be there for you.” Derek hid his face against the crook of Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles touched Derek’s arm. “What if I never stop?”

Derek frowned and raised his head. “Never stop…?”

“What if I never stop… wanting you?”

Derek didn’t have an answer for him. He turned onto his side, facing Stiles and kissed him.  _Then don’t,_ he wanted to say.  _Just don’t._


	36. Chapter 36

The drive back to Beacon Hills was shorter than Stiles remembered, one minute he was in the city and the next he could see his house approaching. He spent the time thinking about all possible things to explain himself to his father.

 “Stop tapping your feet,” Derek said without glancing at him.

“Well excuse me, if the idea of facing my dad is giving me stress.”

Derek sighed. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Forget it, I was kidding.”

The car stopped. Stiles glanced at the door, everything looked the way it had.  Quiet neighbourhood with trimmed lawns and happy dogs at each house.

His dad car was parked up front.

Derek touched his arm, “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“Nah, I have to face him alone.” Stiles said. He surprised himself and Derek, when he leaned over in his seat and brushed a quick kiss across Derek’s lips. “Everything is going to be fine,” Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded silently and let him go.

The smell of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee greeted Stiles as he walked through the door. _This is a good sign_. “Honey, I’m home!”  Stiles announced as he strolled in the kitchen.

His father turned as he heard Stiles’ voice. “Your guy isn’t coming in?”

Stiles frowned, “My guy? You mean Derek?—”

Dad peered through the curtain, “He’s still parked outside, you can tell him to come in.”

“Dad, you can say his name, you’re not going to turn into salt.”

Dad gave Stiles an exasperated sigh, “Tell Derek to come in.”

***

_Awkward_ is the only word that comes to mind whenever he thought about the day he finally told his dad about the werewolves in Beacon Hill, Scott getting bitten and his relationship with Derek.  “How long has this been going on?” Dad had asked, giving Derek his trademark pointy stare which had been reserved for Yours Truly.

Derek shifted on his feet, “Mr Stilinksi--”

“It started long after I turned sixteen, Dad.”

His father turned to him, “Why didn’t you tell me, that you were dating?”

“We didn’t exactly date. There was never any time this is Beacon Hills, Dad. Something was always trying to kill me and my friends.”

His father sighed, “I need to sit down to hear this one.”

Stiles glanced at Derek, “Okay, I’m going to update you on what’s being going on here in Beacon Hills for the past year or so.” He tapped Derek’s shoulder, “Derek is going to be our model, I need some post-its and we shall began.”

His dad and Derek sighed in unison.

***

“So the Kanima tried to kill Jackson?” Dad asked.

“No, Jackson _was_ he Kanima and he was being controlled.” Stiles said. He glanced at Derek for help.

Derek wiggled his eyebrow at him. _You deal with this one_ , he thought.

 Dad glanced at his notes, “By Gerard Argent?”

“No.”

“You told me Gerard brainwashed him to kill people.”

Stiles sighed and said with as much patience as he could muster. “It wasn’t brainwashing per se. It was more like mind control, Jackson wasn’t himself, Matt originally controlled the Kanima, and Gerard took over the control when he killed Matt.”

Stiles watched as his dad, crossed out something on his notepad and he made a notation, “Another grey hair on my head,” Dad said, “Stiles, it’s going to take me days to take this all in. But I’ll try my best. In the mean time I want you two,” he gestured between Stiles and Derek, “To cool things down until I give you  my appreciate reaction to all of this. For the love God go on a few dates. I don’t know how things work in day and age of Snapchat, sweeping but when I was your age we dated someone before you started,” Dad made air quotes, “spending the night.”

Derek felt his face heat up, he glanced at Stiles, for once Stiles was also blushing.

“Do you understand me?” His eye flickered between Derek and Stiles.

“I get it, Dad.”  Stiles said studying his nails.  

“Yes, sir.” Derek replied.

***

“How has junior been so far Stiles?” Ms Morrell asked.

“Well it’s more or less the same as sophomore year, except now I take less classes.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to study in college?” Ms Morrell asked.

“I know, I don’t want to be a cop or a lawyer but I still want to do something somewhere I in the crime solving spectrum and keep up Stilinski tradition. I want to apply to Berkley, UCLA and maybe Stanford.

Ms Morrell smiled. “All these colleges are in California.”

“I think it’s best I stay close to home, that’s has always been the plan.”

“The plan?”

“My dad needs me, I can’t run off half way across the country like another kids, if something happens I need to be able to go home.”  Stiles suddenly became aware that he was fidgeting and stopped clicking the pen in his hand. He sat back, “That’s always been the plan,” he repeated

“Have are things with your friends? Especially Scott, he last time we spoke, you felt that there was distance between—”

“Everything good.” Stiles said quickly, he couldn’t remember what he had said to Ms Morrell during his last session, everything had been eclipsed by finding Derek.  “I have an idea in my head of how I want my life to be, I can imagine the next two years Lydia will be homecoming queen, the valedictorian spent the better part of the next years studying hard so he could qualify to get into Brown with Allison. If I do everything right this will happen.”

Ms Morrell gave him a sad smile, “Stiles it’s not up to you.”

***

When Stiles returned home that day, he found his dad there. “You’re home early.”

“I thought it would be a good idea for me to take some times time off work, I apply for some leave from work, and after all I’ve been working hard at the station for years.”

“And this has nothing to do with me?”

“Some of it does, I want to be here more for you.” There was an awkward pause as his father looked him.

“Enough with the awkward moments already,” Stiles said stepping into hug his dad.

Dad laughed rubbing his back. “I will if you will.”  

They pulled apart.

Stiles smiled, “Deal.”

“When is your date with Derek?”

Shit, he had forgotten about that. “Soon.”

“How soon, Stiles that was my one request for your relationship with the guy, is to actually date each other.  One condition, only one.”

Stiles sighed, Dad was right. “Soon means tonight. Derek and I are going out tonight. Dad, I have to go and…”

Stiles was heading for the stairs when he heard his father say,

“I want receipts son.”

Derek picked up on the second ring, “Yeah.”

“Hey, do you want to go out to night?”

“Tonight?”

“Apparently, my dad was being serious when he said he wanted us to date.”

Derek cleared his throat. “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, maybe bowling? But that more Scott and Allison’s thing. I was went ice skating with Lydia, Allison and Scott. Lydia did most of the skating, I mostly watch—”

“Stiles, I’m not going ice skating.”

“What a movie?”

“No.”

Stiles sighed, “I’m running out of idea here—oh wait we could go to make out point and…talk? That’s a classic American date right there.”

Derek laughed on the other side. “Yes, I think we can do that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“No, I’ll come over. Make some face time with your dad. I think the more he sees the more he is going to get use to me.”

Stiles smiled, “Oh I don’t think my dad will ever get use to you. But you’re more than welcome to try.”

At seven, the doorbell rang. _And the award for the most punctual werewolf goes to_ , Stiles thought as he ran down the stairs. He found Derek standing on the porch, looking a few degrees of bashful. Derek carried a large bouquet of yellow flowers.  Stiles stared at the flowers.

“They are for your dad.” Derek said gesturing as he walked in.

Stiles stifled laughter.

“What?”

“I think a six pack of Heineken would have been more appropriate.”

“Nonsense Stiles, they are very homely,” Dad said as he came into the living room. “Stiles get a vase.”

“Dad I’ve never seen a vase in this house, I don’t think we have one” Stiles took the flowers from Derek. “But I’m sure there’s something I can put them in,” he said as he thought about the empty Tupperware in the kitchen.

“Its fine, I’ll take these.” Dad took the flowers. “Where are you guys going?”

Derek’s eyes flickered to Stiles,

“We’re going to the drive through and I’ll home by eleven.” Stiles said.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he heard his father say as they left the house.

***

“We’re taking my car.” Stiles said, indicating the junk heap that he called a car.  Derek nodded, it was pointless to argue. The only way he was going to get through this was to agree with whatever Stiles said. And maybe just maybe he’d make through this so-called date without losing his temper. “Have you ever been to the drive in before?”

“No, I’ve never been there.” Stiles adjusted the mirror. “Scott and I once went drinking in the woods near the drive in.  We were there to mope, well did most of the drinking and Scott had us cover for the moping. Our little party came to a stop when two idiot decided to gang up on us and take my hard earned liquor.” Stiles smiled. “Good times.”  He started the engine. “Beacon Hill’s drive in is like the last remaining drive in this area, it’s practically a heritage site.”

Derek gave his a wiry smile, “Really?”

“I asked Scott and Allison to join us and make it a group thing but they reclined. Scott said, he’s sick of your face and Allison said, she would only come if she could use your body as dart board. As you can see a group think was impractical for your livelihood.”

“Things between me and Scott are tense right now,” Derek frowned “and Allison hates my guts.”

“I even asked Lydia to join us and she said: ‘Who? I don’t know him,’—the best Mariah Carey impression I’ve ever seen.”  

Derek rolled his eyes, “Am I supposed to understand what that means?”

“You’re failing to see the lack of options I have got in terms of organising a group date.”

“How many dates does your father expect us to go on?”

“I know my dad, he doesn’t approve at all.  He wants us to hang out. With sex removed from the equation, he hopes we’ll get sick of each other’s company and break it off. Since we both have never dated before, we both can try and fail at it. ”

Derek stared straight ahead. “I thought he liked me.” 

Stiles laughed, “Base on what? The few times you’ve met him? The two hour conversion we had with him?”  When he saw the look on Derek’s face he stopped laughing. Stiles touched Derek’s arm, “My dad doesn’t know you enough to like you, don’t take it personally, just talk to him. My dad is a very easy going person, if you give him a reason to like you, he will. Trust me.”

Derek could see the drive-in approaching up head.  The big beacon shape sign glowed above the cinema building. Stiles made it all sound so simple. _Charm the Sheriff, show him that you’re not a criminal. Humanise yourself, was the verdict._   Derek sighed. “Stiles I don’t k now how to do that.”

“I’ll help you— it’s not rock science to have a personality.”

“Tell that to the Unabomber.” Derek replied.

It was classics night and _Bugsy Malone_ was playing at the drive in. Stiles parked the Jeep at the back. He glanced at Derek. “Do you want to watch from the inside of the care or we could sit on the bonnet and watch from there.”

Derek shrugged.  “We can stay inside the car.”

They sat in silence watching the opening act of the movie. “Do you want me to go and popcorn?” Stiles said breaking the silence, he unclipped his seat belt.  “I’ll be quick.” Derek stopped him, by placing his hand across his chest.

“Can you sit still and we’ll finish the damn movie, it was your idea after all.”

Stiles reclined back into his seat, “The idea of sitting here for the next 90 minutes sounds like torture.” He unclipped the seat and glanced at Derek. “Do you want to make out?”

“Let’s watch the movie.”

“Worse date ever,” Stiles shuffled a yawn and reclined back. He must have fallen asleep, when he opened his eyes the music was now playing as the end credits slowly rolled up the screen.

Derek’s head was against his shoulder, Derek was still asleep his chest gently raising and falling. Stiles tugged at the lapels of Derek’s jacket. Derek opened his eyes and sat up. “How was the movie?” Stiles asked.

“It was fantastic.” Derek said.

**THE END**


End file.
